


Bowing Down

by Tallandgay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, BDSM, Begging, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Girl Penis, Lesbian Sex, Petplay, Praise Kink, Smut, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallandgay/pseuds/Tallandgay
Summary: No Voldemort AU. Hermione is in her seventh year when she ventures to a sex club that her Professor is known to frequent. Bellatrix lives a secret life, with secret desires, but what if Hermione does too?OrA D/s relationship ft. Bellamione
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 99
Kudos: 719





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I’ve been writing this in my head for months. This is basically a Bellamione story heavily featuring BDSM themes. If kink isn’t your cup of tea, don’t read this. Features a possessive and sadistic Dom!Bellatrix and a curious and willing Sub!Hermione, I’m not doing non-con for this story.
> 
> Please, review if you can. Idea suggestions are welcome as well.

Hermione cannot figure out where she has gotten the blind, stupid courage to go to this club. Her stomach tied up in knots just thinking about it, her brain constantly overthinking about what could possibly go wrong. But yet, she’d just stepped through a gaudy entryway and into a busy and poorly lit club on the lower east side of London. 

_Merlin, I need a drink._

That’s how Hermione decided she’ll get through this night, this night that she’s imagined for months. With just a bit of liquid luck, Hermione can finally do what she’s been aching to do. Without it, she was sure to leave without getting things off of her chest. 

Her heart is racing, beating erratically in her chest, but she forces her feet to move. She quickly shuffles over to the bar situated on the far right wall of the club, discreetly seating herself on a stool. Taking a moment to draw her cloak closer, Hermione peers around the bar, taking it in. 

It’s laid out similarly to any of the other bars that she’s been to; a dimly lit dance floor, booths and sofas littered about, a pounding music system, things like that. A DJ was placed up on a balcony behind the dance floor, seemingly doing nothing but hopping along to the beat while the club goers danced crazily. The entire dance floor was full of sweaty bodies pressing up against each other to the rhythm of the bounding bass. But here, in this particular club, it seemed as if all of the patrons were wearing as little clothes as physically possible and were practically, if not literally, fucking each other. 

The glint off of a tight latex bodysuit catches Hermione’s eye and she's suddenly enthralled with the idea of looking at the crowd. The harder she looks, the more leather and latex she sees. She sees a gay couple wearing nothing but thick leather harnesses and jockstraps, and another couple where one has their face pressed into the crotch of the other. Suddenly, Hermione is very overwhelmed by the sheer smell of sex coming from the dance floor and cannot stand to watch any more. 

A heavy flush tints Hermione’s cheeks as she turns back from the craziness on the dance floor and goes about flagging down a barkeep. A large gruff man comes by moments later to take her order, which then promptly pops into existence next to her. She greedily sips her cocktail, hoping that the alcohol would somehow calm her nerves about finally being in a place like this. Her hand instinctively goes to grasp her wand in her back pocket, a comforting habit to ground her. 

“First time in a fetish club?” Comes a gravely question from the barkeep. Hermione can see the amusement written across his dark features, but also the curiosity. 

Hermione immediately flushes again, and swallows down one more sip of the fruity drink. It’s just a barkeep, someone she’ll never see again. What’s the harm in admitting her inexperience?

“I, um, y-yes actually. But I’m looking for someone-“ Hermione rushes out, trying not to lose her courage. She looks up to the kind, curious face of the barkeep and decides to share more. “A woman, in her forties. Dark curly hair, a good bit taller than me. She looks like she could kill someone and it’s kind of amazing,” Hermione gushes. Avoiding the entertained gaze of the barkeep, she tilts her head down to catch another sip of her drink. 

Hermione’s pulse pounds in her ears as the barkeep smiles, about to answer. She swears that he can feel the nervous energy radiating off of her, and is seemingly pitying her with his answer. 

“Bellatrix? I’m surprised you missed her,” comes the stiff reply. “The booth in the corner.”

_She must be a regular._

Hermione immediately whips around, intent on finding the corner she missed. The barkeep continues however. 

“I dunno if she’s your type, lass. She’s known to chew up and spit people out.”

Hermione looks into his light eyes and sees no lie. It’s unsurprising that Bellatrix’s harsh demeanor translates to her interactions outside of the classroom; Hermione expects nothing less from the dark witch. “Thank you for the drink and the advice.” She gives him a tight smile. The dismissal is clear, and the burly man returns to the other end of the bar. 

Taking a calming breath, Hermione steels herself. _I need to find her._ She’s had this adventure planned for ages, and she cannot let herself down. 

She peered over the gyrating crowd, looking purposefully in the dark shadows of the club’s corners. All of the corner booths were occupied and covered in heavy shadows, how was Hermione supposed to find the dark witch? Squinting once again, she tried to distinguish the shapes of people she can see through the shadows. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught Hermione’s eye. A slender woman has broken away from the crowd and sauntered over to the booth furthest away from the entrance. Hermione stares intensely. Her instincts are telling her that Bellatrix is there, that she _has_ to be there. 

She squints harder, willing for her to finally become apparent when Bellatrix emerged from the shadows to greet the slim woman who’s come to the table. Hermione’s heart races as she takes in Bellatrix for the first time in her full glory. 

She’s exchanged plain black Professor’s robes for a black corset that seems to push her breasts forward and tight leather pants that glint off the low light. Even from here, Hermione can see her trademark blood-red lipstick as her lips curl up into a smirk. Bellatrix stands up fully and hugs the slim woman and almost delightedly kisses her cheek. They seem to exchange a few words before they both disappeared deeper into the shadow of the booth. 

Hermione’s view of Bellatrix is gone and she can’t help but lurch to her feet, somehow magically drawn to Bellatrix, wanting to catch another glimpse of the powerful woman. Hermione moved quickly from the bar to the edge of the dance floor where the crowd is thin and not as rowdy as those dry humping towards the center. She tries to stand on her tiptoes to see over the heads of people, but she’s much too short. _Bloody hell._ She’ll have to dare even closer to Bellatrix’s corner. She needed to make sure Bellatrix is here. 

Slinking her way past the sweating club goers, Hermione slowly but surely covers ground toward the corner. Peering again through the crowd, she can just barely make out the booth where Bellatrix is with more detail. 

This close, Hermione can see Bellatrix’s feral smile as she laughs at something someone to her right has said. The booth was occupied by seven other people, one of which being the young woman who had approached the booth from the dance floor. They were all situated very closely together, and it seemed like a brown haired man seated on the end was receiving some sort of hand job underneath the table. The girl giving it to him was the slim woman from the dance floor, wearing a heady expression on her delicate features. Bellatrix seemed incredibly amused by the whole situation, her smile never slipping from her face. 

Hermione stood there for some time, being constantly jostled by the surrounding crowd, just watching the way Bellatrix interacted with her peers. She often held the center of attention, and very obviously commanded the small group of club goers. Hermione easily got caught up in the way Bellatrix stirred a slim finger into her dark drink before sipping it gently. From there, it almost looked like her lipstick had left a stain on that glass. 

_Oh god, to be that glass._

Now Hermione was swaying, unsteady on her feet as she got more caught up in the motion of the crowd. She barely cared, all she could think of was the deep red lipstick that Bellatrix wore on her luscious lips, and suddenly Hermione was again thinking about what it would be like for those lips to kiss her. Hermione let her mouth fall slightly agape as she started to take deeper breaths, her anticipation and arousal and anxiety all hitting her at once. 

Out of nowhere, a sudden movement directly in front of Hermione distracted her from her reverie, and she found herself instinctually jerking away from somebody stepping closer to her. But not just anybody. Suddenly, Bellatrix Black was in front of Hermione, no less than three feet away, wearing her trademark smirk as her blazing black eyes caught Hermione like a deer in the headlights. 

Bellatrix easily towered over Hermione, and readily used this against her as she slid forward and into Hermione’s personal space. She was immobilized, caught by the commanding aura that emanated from the dark witch. Leaning down, Bellatrix finally said, “And what are you doing here, Granger?”. There’s a dangerous glint in Bellatrix’s eyes as Hermione scrambled to form a sentence. None of this was going to plan. 

Suddenly, all of the courage Hermione had spent months working up had left her and she tried to back away into the bustling crowd behind her. Before she takes more than two steps backwards, Hermione fumbles on some random woman dancing nearby and loses her footing. But a pale hand shoots out from nearby, and then she’s being whisked away from the dance floor. 

Hermione can barely register where she is or where she’s going, she’s just submitting herself to Bellatrix, letting the older woman take her away from the dance floor. 

The next thing she knows, Hermione is pushed roughly into a wall with Bellatrix looming directly in front of her, blocking any view of her more immediate surroundings and of where she was. The pulse begins to pound loudly in her ears as Hermione stands there, chest heaving and eyes blown wide as she waits for her Professor to make a move. 

A wicked grin spreads across Bellatrix’s face, making her beautiful features look almost like a predator who had caught its prey. She seems to take immense enjoyment at the scared look on Hermione’s face. “Oh, did you really think I didn’t notice you, pet? Your thoughts were loud enough to notice from across the room.” Bellatrix ground out. Somehow she’s moved closer to Hermione, to the point where she can feel the Professor’s erratic breath upon her skin. 

Hermione’s back is now pressed soundly to the stone wall behind her, trying to get as far away from Bellatrix as possible, but finding herself trapped. Suddenly, her plan to confront her Professor seems like the stupidest idea Hermione has ever come up with. Bellatrix’s sheer sexual energy has managed to pierce through her heart, and she can feel a pool of wetness begin to develop as Hermione realizes that she’s trapped alone with her maniacally grinning Professor. 

Paralyzed, Hermione is unable to move an inche as she feels her pulse race from the proximity to the older woman. Tilting her head, Bellatrix dared another step closer while she licked her ruby red stained lips. Hermione felt her knees start to buckle as a voice in the back of her head speaks up.

_Oh god, she’s too close, she’s too angry. Submit, submit!_

“P-Professor, I-,” Hermione managed to stutter out before being interrupted once again. 

“No, you don’t get to talk yet,” came the hurried reply from Bellatrix, “You’re coming with me, girl.” 

Once again, Bellatrix grasped Hermione’s wrist soundly, and before she can blink, Bellatrix had again dragged her away and had taken her out some back door that she hadn’t noticed to exit into the neighboring alley. 

Before she can get any sense of her bearings, Hermione is again shoved roughly into the exterior of the club with Bellatrix’s forearm placed firmly across her chest and a crooked wand jabbing into her neck. All Hermione can focus on is the warmth coming from Bellatrix’s body and the sharp, heady smell of her perfume; Hermione is practically drunk off of it. 

Bellatrix takes a moment to blow an errant curl out of her face, once again composing herself. She poked her wand deeper into Hermione’s neck and smiled threateningly before speaking. “And what is little Granger doing here?”

Hermione swallowed loudly twice before trying to speak, “I-I don’t know, I’m-” before she can stutter out the rest of her sentence, Bellatrix shoved her face directly next to Hermione’s and has started to push the younger witch harder into the wall. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Bellatrix spat out, pointing an accusing glare at Hermione, “you tell me why you’re here and how you found me or I will drag you by the scruff of your neck to McGonagall and clean my hands of you.” There’s no softness in Bellatrix’s voice, only hard steel, and Hermione scrambles to answer, scrambles to submit. 

“Wait! Wait, I was...” Hermione begins, desperate to make sure Bellatrix doesn’t abandon her to her Head of House, and subsequently leaving Hermione without the chance to ask her question. She takes a deep breath before murmuring, “I was looking for you, Professor Black.”

Hermione wants to bow her head in submission but she can’t, Bellatrix’s flaming gaze keeps her captive, and the woman’s eyes glow even more after telling her why she came here. The amusement is clear on her face as Bellatrix smiles a condescending grin. 

“Looking for me, Muddy? At a fetish club?” There’s no shame in her question, only the expectation of an explanation from Hermione. Professor Black plays no games, and knows that there’s no way back from this just because Hermione has found her here. All Bellatrix has to do is crook upwards a dark eyebrow before Hermione is suddenly pouring out an explanation. 

“I had s-some friends look into where you went on, um, on the Hogsmeade weekends, since you’re the only Professor who doesn’t ever chaperone. He just gave me the name of the club, th-that’s it. I did some more research, a-and came here twice to ask some people outside about it and everyone said that, that this is a place for...um-” Hermione tried to keep going, but as she continued speaking, the fire in Bellatrix’s eyes grew and grew until Hermione could feel her knees buckling. Without the strong presence of Bellatrix’s arm, she might’ve collapsed. 

“A place for sexual deviants?” Bellatrix offered, her delight never so apparent. 

“A place for someone like me.” Hermione dared. 

For just a moment, the smile that Bellatrix wore dropped into a sneer, a look of bewilderment and disgust. She quickly regained her composure before spitting out angrily, “What? A little Muddy as a Dominant?” Bellatrix’s voice dropped in pitch as she leaned forward to place her lips mere centimeters from Hermione’s left ear. “Or are you a submissive, _pet?_ ” 

Merlin help her, Hermione couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips. Her Professor had started calling her “pet” in her fifth year during one of the many times she’d stay behind to ask questions after class. Hermione had initially brushed it off as another facet of the woman’s Pureblood beliefs, but slowly the nickname had wriggled its way into her subconscious and her dreams. Hearing Professor Black call her by that name, the one usually full of disdain, in such a husky tone made her stomach lurch with lust. 

A puff of breath sounded off and Hermione realized that her Professor had turned her head to the side in apparent disgust. Immediately Hermione’s hopes fell through her feet and she grew incredibly red with embarrassment. She shuffled there for a moment before trying to speak, when she was cut off again. 

“Called it,” came the gruff reply from her Professor. A moment passed before Bellatrix took her arm off of Hermione’s sternum and took a single step back so that she could stare triumphantly at the young witch. Hermione was practically gaping like a fish.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione questioned quickly, not remembering to hold her tongue around this woman. 

Bellatrix cocked her head to the left as she playfully pointed her warped wand directly at Hermione’s chest. “Do you think I never noticed you leer at me? I notice everyone who does; all of the Weasel men, poor baby Potter, and even you, Granger.” Bellatrix paused, seemingly just for dramatic effect, before continuing, “You may act petulant in class, but you look for any excuse to spend more time with me and I’ve caught you daydreaming while staring at me more than once this year. You’re a people pleaser. It’s not hard to put two and two together.” 

Hermione flushed with embarrassment once she realized that she had been caught. She _had_ done those things, multiple times, but she thought that Professor Black just never noticed. Bellatrix continued impatiently before Hermione could dwell on how badly she had fucked up. 

“I won’t ask you again. Why were you looking for me?” There’s a twinkle in her eye, a knowing look, that unsettles Hermione as she fumbles for the answer, trying to find the best way to phrase the embarrassing truth. 

“I’m looking for you because I have a question for you.”

Bellatrix is immediately displeased with this answer. She slammed her palm firmly against the wall behind Hermione, once again getting into the girl’s personal space. 

“Spit it out, Muddy, before I lose my patience and I drag you back to Hogwarts myself.” Bellatrix threatens, her angry warm breath billowing over Hermione’s face. 

Hermione swallows thickly before beginning, “Please. I-I know I’m just a Mudblood wh-who is your student, bu-“

“I don’t hear a question.”

_I can do this._

So Hermione did the only thing her brain could tell her to. She dropped to her knees. 

Kneeling, she sat on her haunches and placed her hands face down on her thighs. Her back stiffened slightly and she thrust her heaving chest forward and tilted her head up so she could see the shocked face that Bellatrix wore. In a timid voice she started, “Please, Miss. I want to be yours. Your submissive.” 

Hermione took a breath before continuing, “I feel so innately drawn to you. Y-you have this commanding aura that I can’t resist. Whenever you’re near me, I get this tug in my stomach, I-I just want to cave in and sink to my knees and be good for you. I know I've seemed defiant towards you in the past, but it was because I was scared. I want to be yours, but I don’t know how to; I want you to teach me how to be yours. Please, Miss.”

Hermione’s earnest honey eyes bore into Bellatrix so deeply that it nearly took her breath away. The lust and desire was so clearly evident on the girl’s face, but looking deeper, Bellatrix could see the glossy, hopeful submissive look now shining in her eyes. 

Never in a million years would Bellatrix expect this from her student, from _this_ student. She never dared dream that big. Sure, she’s been pined after and idolized for her entire tenure at Hogwarts. Sure, some students had the idiocy and balls to even approach her. But never had it been this way. Never had it been someone like _her_. 

Granger had always found a way to get under her skin, and somehow, her heart was tugged towards this young woman. Bellatrix could see how the young witch’s pupils were blown and how her chest rose and fell quickly, and damn it all if she didn’t feel a deep burning start in her loins.

So Bellatrix did the only thing her brain could tell her to do. She went with it. 

Slowly, Bellatrix reached out her left hand to gently cup Hermione’s flushed cheeks. Bellatrix carefully grazed her thumb across Hermione’s cheeks, feeling the younger girl immediately sink into her touch. 

“Prove it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos, the positive response has been overwhelming. Here’s another installment. Please, comment if you can, I’m always open to suggestions and critique.

_“Prove it.”_

Hermione knelt in front of Bellatrix, chest heaving, as she looked into the dark eyes of her Professor. Her brain was scrambling to give a response, any sort of response, but she hesitated heavily instead. All she could feel was the warm palm pressed gently, almost protectively, against her cheek. All she could think about was how right it felt to be on her knees. The hard part was over, all she had to do was prove herself to Bellatrix. 

But how was she supposed to prove herself?

“I don’t know how, Miss.” Hermione murmurs lowly, wide hazel eyes boring into the woman above her. Bellatrix snorted at her response, withdrawing her hand and rolling her eyes. Immediately Hermione missed the caress, the mere physical presence of the dark witch. Unwilling to lose the touch, Hermione follows her basic submissive instinct to get closer to Bellatrix. She dropped onto all fours and inched closer to the older woman’s legs before carefully placing a flushed cheek upon tight leather pants. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the feel of the soft leather and the dark cinnamon smell that came from her Professor. Here, poised literally beneath Bellatrix, Hermione’s breath catches in her throat. 

Hermione nuzzled into the supple thigh in front of her, gently rubbing her nose against the black leather pants. This feels right. Looking up at Bellatrix through dark eyelashes, Hermione starts again.

“I don’t know how, please teach me, Miss.” Hermione said reverently. She sat back on her haunches and placed a shaky hand on the toe of Bellatrix’s left boot as she continued to gently rub her face against Bellatrix’s leg, savoring the warmth and power radiating from the woman above her. “I’ll do anything.”

Hermione, at this point, was practically oozing lust from her pores. Bellatrix swore she could smell the sweet wetness she knew is in between the younger witch’s thighs. The woman wanted nothing more than to stop pussy-footing around and finally take the younger witch who had just so generously offered herself up.

Bellatrix’s pause is poignant, and Hermione’s nerves seem to whirl out of control at the sudden stop. Had she done something wrong? Hermione ran her hand up the firm calf of her Professor before dropping a swift kiss upon the tight leather. She needed this to happen.

Seemingly appeased by her offer, Bellatrix allows a devious smirk to overcome her features. They’re both too far to go back now. 

“It’s Mistress to you, Muddy. Best not to forget that, hm?” Bellatrix cocks her head almost as if speaking to a child. 

Hermione immediately scrambles to fix her mistake, rushing out, “Yes, Mistress, of course, I’m sorry, Mistress,” before placing another gentle kiss to Bellatrix’s firm leg. Hermione can’t seem to stop gently nuzzling her nose into the leg, looking lost in the feeling of worshipping her Professor.

Truthfully, Hermione had imagined something like this too many times; had imagined being on her knees, worshiping and caressing the powerful witch above her. Suddenly Hermione ached to kiss Bellatrix’s bare skin, to kiss and lick every inch of skin she is allowed to.

Bellatrix’s smirk grew into a predatory smile as she reached down and practically hauled Hermione up to her feet by the collar of her robes. In the low alley light, Hermione’s pupils are obviously blown with lust and have a shiny, submissive glint to them. 

“Better.” Bellatrix let out. There’s a playful amusement dancing in her dark brown eyes.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and tried to prepare herself for what she ached to do. She bridged the small gap between her and Bellatrix and placed her shaking hands on Bellatrix’s hips and gently, carefully, tilted her head up to place a kiss on a bare collarbone. The gratitude and praise in this gesture is not lost on Bellatrix, who seems to be practically radiating with delight at the show of reverence. 

Hermione can taste the salt off of Bellatrix’s collarbone and can smell the sweet cinnamon radiating from the dark witch’s pores. Hermione took a deep breath in, filling herself with as much of the air near Bellatrix as she can muster. Her hands clenchEd slightly at the warm and luscious pair of hips beneath them, and she let out a stringent whine without thinking. She could stay here, protected, forever.

She must savor this moment, savor this opportunity to prove herself and finally get what she wants.

“Needy, are we, pet?” Hermione can feel the pleased rumble that Bellatrix makes because of her head pressed against the dark witch’s chest. Hermione continued to pepper kisses upon sharp collar bones as Bellatrix took a firm hand and tucked errant strands of hair behind Hermione’s ear. She felt incredibly enveloped in warmth from the woman in front of her, incredibly safe, despite the dark witch’s reputation. 

Hermione took this gesture of affection as affirmation that she’s doing well; she has to do well, there’s no alternative. She doesn’t have a lot of practical experience, but she’s done plenty of research on BDSM, and she seems to be doing the things expected of a proper submissive. Besides, half the time she doesn’t think and just moved with her gut. 

She dared to shift slightly and pressed a wet kiss upon the column of Bellatrix’s neck. Hermione shivered at the throaty chuckle that Bellatrix then let out, and tentatively placed another kiss lower, towards where her neck and shoulder met. Her eyes fluttered closed as Bellatrix’s other arm came to encircle her waist to press their bodies flush together.

A firm hand suddenly gripped Hermione’s chin as she’s ripped out of her solemn reverie hidden in Bellatrix’s neck. 

Bellatrix’s black eyes peirce into Hermione’s own hazel eyes as she begins to speak. “When I ask a question, I expect that question to be answered.”

There’s no room for argument in her tone or in her words, but Hermione couldn’t even dream of defying them. All she can think of is how the wetness between her thighs was growing more and more the longer she was near her Professor. All she wanted is to finally kiss her lips, and taste the dark witch. 

“Of course Mistress, I’m sorry.” Hermione quickly said, not wanting to upset Bellatrix.

“So are you?” Bellatrix inquired. 

Hermione certainly wasn’t expecting this question, or really any question. For the life of her, she can’t remember what they were talking about moments ago, her head in a fuzzy haze. She tilted her head, letting out, “Am I what?” 

“Needy. You seem the type.” If anything, Hermione’s confusion seems to entice Bellatrix even further, goading the woman on. 

“You seem to have me all figured out.” Hermione’s voice is so breathy and soft she can barely recognize her own voice, much less the words that escape her lips. 

“I’m a good judge of character. And you’re very obvious. You’ve always been a people pleaser, little miss Head Girl.” 

“But how can I please you?” Hermione asked. At this point, the only thing she can think about is Bellatrix, and the ache that’s settled in between her thighs that’s become steadily more uncomfortable.

Bellatrix tightened her grip on the younger girl’s delicate face as she let her thumb rest lightly upon Hermione’s parted lips. Running her thumb over her pouty lower lip, Bellatrix made a decision. 

“Open.”

Hermione’s never done something like this before, or heard much about it, but once the idea is placed in her head, she wants nothing more than to suck on Bellatrix’s fingers and feel the other woman in her mouth.

Hermione ducked her head to take Bellatrix’s thumb tip into her mouth, tentatively getting used to the feeling of something in her mouth. In her few sexual experiences, she’s never used her mouth like this, but it makes her core heat up.

“Suck,” comes the firm order from above her. Hermione had to tilt her head up slightly to catch Bellatrix’s dark eyes. She looked pleased at Hermione’s actions, and Hermione couldn’t dare to let the other woman down.

Slowly, gently, she drew Bellatrix’s thumb a bit deeper into her mouth before starting to cautiously swirl her tongue around it. She suckled gently on the woman’s thumb, feeling any inhibitions she might have still had slip away. Something about having the woman’s thumb placed firmly in her mouth has Hermione’s imagination reeling, wanting to put her mouth on anything she can. She felt her knickers grow increasingly damp.

“Good pet,” Bellatrix rumbled. She was extremely happy to see how eager the girl was to completely submit herself to another’s will. Bellatrix loosened her grip on Hermione’s face so she could slide her thumb all the way into the smaller witch’s mouth.

Hermione certainly wasn’t expecting this, but she couldn’t help but automatically unhinge her jaw to take more of the woman’s thumb and released a low moan as her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling of being praised. 

Never had Bellatrix praised her. In all seven years of having her as a Professor, she seemed to expect only the best from Hermione, only looking mildly appeased when Hermione out performed literally every other student in the class. Otherwise, she was looked at with nothing less than barely disguised disappointment. Bellatrix always put more pressure on Hermione, anyone could see that the older woman just about bullied her. But now, hearing those two little words coming out of her mouth, a warmth in burned deep in the young woman’s chest. Hermione ached for this praise, this intimate approval that the dark witch was providing her. Unwittingly, Hermione canted her hips into Bellatrix’s core, unable to stop the motion.

She took another long suck at Bellatrix’s thumb, opening her eyes again to see that Bellatrix had never taken her eyes off of her. She seemed to take great pleasure in just watching Hermione, seeing how far the girl would go. Hermione hoped this was a good sign, that despite her better judgement, Bellatrix would keep her and teach her to be good.

Bellatrix pressed her thumb down harshly so Hermione’s mouth fell completely open so she could see her wet thumb placed on the younger woman’s pink tongue. Hermione’s mouth was open as far as it could go, and her chest was heaving at the sensation; hope blossomed in her chest at the possibility that Bellatrix would use her mouth.

“You and I are going to have a little chat later, Muddy,” Bellatrix promised, gently swirling her thumb on Hermione’s flattened tongue. “I have some questions for you.”

Hermione should have felt some sort of fear or dread at the Professor’s words and the tone of her voice, but all she could feel was her knees growing weaker and her underwear feeling uncomfortably wet instead.

“But, for now, I’ll let you prove yourself. A trial run, let’s say.”

Hermione’s mouth moved to smile gratefully at the words, but Bellatrix instead pushed her mouth wide again.

“But you’ll have to do everything I say. I won’t go easy on you,” Bellatrix warned.

Here, Hermione almost moaned at the thought of being completely at the mercy of the other woman. She was practically pleading with her eyes to have Bellatrix take control of her. She whined pitifully as Bellatrix took her thumb out of her mouth, and marveled at the long line of spit that was attached to the thumb. Suddenly she realized an answer was expected from her.

“I won’t let you down.” Hermione said. “Please, Mistress. Use me.”

At this admission Bellatrix let out a feral noise, something between a deep rumble in her chest and an actual growl. Hermione had never seen anyone else manage to radiate power and control while being so animalistic and unpredictable. 

“You’re coming with me.” 

There’s no further warning before Bellatrix gripped Hermione’s wrist and twisted sharply on one heel. The terrible tugging sensation that comes from Apparating enveloped Hermione, and as she landed at her unknown destination, she’s only kept from stumbling by the firm grip on her waist. 

Feeling thoroughly disoriented, Hermione took a moment to make sure she didn’t vomit, before taking in her new surroundings. 

They seemed to be in Bellatrix’s bedroom, that much was obvious, but calling it a room would be a disservice. It was absolutely cavernous, littered with dark furniture and plush carpets. Hermione immediately noticed a large four poster bed settled against the back wall of the bedroom, decorated in deep green and silver sheets and pillows. It was very obviously a den for a proud Slytherin.

Bellatrix seemed to have a knack for distracting Hermione before she truly got her bearings, though. After only a few moments’ pause, Bellatrix again reached to firmly grip Hermione’s chin. Except this time her hands maneuver Hermione’s chin up and sideways, so the girl’s tan neck was completely exposed. Hermione’s pulse ran so heavily that Bellatrix could literally see her pulse pounding in her jugular vein. 

Hermione suddenly seemed too nervous, too caught up in her thoughts and expectations, and she seemed just about shaking. Bellatrix became determined to calm the girl down, otherwise she could get hurt. She should be shaking from anticipation, not fear. No matter what anyone said about her grumpy disposition and sharp tongue, Bellatrix actually did care about the safety of her partner.

Bellatrix brought the girl flush against her before releasing a pleased sigh at their proximity. She bent down to place a wet kiss directly beneath Hermione’s ear. She took a moment to pause and say, “Breathe. Don’t get too into your head for once. Just listen to me.”

She dropped another kiss on Hermione’s neck, this time slightly lower, but with just as much care. 

At this point, Hermione doesn’t need the hand on her face, she’s completely baring her neck on her own accord. By the third kiss, she lets out a strangled moan, only wanting to feel more of the hot and wet mouth of the dark witch. Hermione has never felt such soft lips before. 

_More, more, more._

But Bellatrix took her time, slowly tracing Hermione’s speeding pulse with her lips. When she finally connected to the base of Hermione’s neck, the younger girl is clutching on for dear life to Bellatrix’s strong arms and has melted like putty in her grip. Finally, Bellatrix started to suck greedily on Hermione’s neck, letting her teeth press gently into the firm skin. She’s suddenly determined to mark the girl beneath her.

Hermione lets out an, “Oh fuck,” without really thinking about it. Bellatrix has roughly taken her delicate skin in her mouth and is sure to leave a hickey. The thought only serves to make her pulse stutter and her legs clench together. Hermione ached to be at the mercy of this woman. 

Bellatrix took more than a few moments to savor the sweet skin of the younger witch, greedily sinking her teeth in to ensure a mark. If Hermione wants to be her submissive, she’ll be possessively marked like a proper submissive. All the while, she ignored the pleading little whimpers coming from the girl, cries intermingled with pain and ecstasy as Bellatrix bit her roughly.

Hermione is sure that her heart is going to burst out of her chest; she can’t take the build up anymore. She’d been imagining this for months, if not years, and she couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer. She needed to feel more of Bellatrix’s mouth, more of Bellatrix, needed to feel her inside of her. Again, Hermione canted her hips into Bellatrix’s firm body, needing to feel some sort of friction, needing to relieve some of the ache.

Bellatrix finally relents, releasing Hermione’s neck that is now littered with red lovebites. “If you want something, you need to ask. I know how vocal you are, I don’t want you quiet now.” 

“Kiss me.” Is all Hermione could breathe out.

Bellatrix knew she should enforce good behavior, make the girl rephrase the question into something more polite and subservient, but Merlin she wanted nothing more than to kiss her. So she does. 

Finally, Bellatrix captured Hermione’s pink lips with her own, pressing firmly against them. Hermione is immediately kissing her back, almost frantically, as one of Bellatrix’s hands started to pull at her cloak. In just a moment, and without breaking the kiss, Bellatrix had her cloak falling to the floor. Hermione brought her arms to loop around Bellatrix’s neck to steady herself as her Professor started to introduce soft nips of teeth to the kiss. 

Bellatrix kissed with such ferocity and passion that Hermione can barely breathe, but she’s not sure she wants to pause for even a moment to catch her breath. All she can think about is the soft, plump pair of lips that are pressed soundly against her own. Bellatrix begins nip even harder at Hermione’s lower lip, causing the girl to gasp, leaving her mouth open for Bellatrix to swiftly slide her tongue into. 

The moan Hermione released is heady and reverberated through her chest as she first felt Bellatrix’s wet, slim tongue in her mouth. She’s never been one for too much French kissing, but with Bellatrix’s tongue in her mouth, she can feel the arousal pooling between her legs and her mouth opening to give the dark witch more access. 

_Take me._

She so badly wants Bellatrix to fuck her. At this point, Hermione doesn’t really care how; she’d take literally anything Bellatrix was willing to give her, whether it be her fingers, her mouth, or more, Hermione ached for it all. 

Hermione felt Bellatrix’s other hand grasp and grope at her arse, effectively only bringing Hermione’s soaked core towards Bellatrix. At this point, she’s sure that the sticky wetness is apparent even from the outside of her pants. 

Bellatrix seems to read her mind, and shifted her hand from Hermione’s arse to cup insistently at her core. Immediately, she could tell Hermione had soaked through her underwear. 

“Oh, please,” Hermione whined. Her head is buried in the crook of Bellatrix’s neck and she’s pitifully grinding down on the older woman’s hand, trying to look for friction. “Please fuck me, Mistress.” She pressed another searing kiss upon Bellatrix’s neck and hoped to Merlin that the woman would be merciful for once and fulfill her dream. 

Bellatrix continued to press gently against Hermione’s searing hot core, giving her barely any friction. Hermione can practically hear the smirk on Bellatrix’s face as she called out, “Are you worthy of me?” 

Hermione let out a groan of frustration, immediately responding, “Please let me be good for you. I’ll make you feel good, I’ll do anything.” 

She’s basically humping Bellatrix’s hand now, and Hermione can feel the desperation clawing at her throat. Bellatrix hums with approval, firmly pressing her palm against Hermione’s clit, finally giving a bit of relief to the younger witch. 

A low moan came from the girl and Bellatrix again hums in approval. Bellatrix is finally done with teasing Hermione, for once taking sympathy in her desperate noises and attempts to gain more pleasure. 

“You’ve done well, pet. Get on the bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Obviously this story will have smut and a lot of sexual themes, but I have a couple options on how to continue this. I can choose to keep the Bellamione relationship as something just sexual, and keep the story centered to that, or expand their relationship to something romantic as well. I have ideas for both options, and would like your input.  
> The next chapter will finally have Hermione gettin fucked yall


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with this slightly slower update. I’m a college student, so sporadic updates are likely, but I assure you, I’m always thinking about this story.  
> Here’s another chapter!

Hermione moved before she had the time to get more nervous and quickly strode across the room to perch herself upon the edge of the large bed. Should she take off her clothes? Hermione was itching to get rid of every piece of offending fabric on her body, but Bellatrix hadn’t said anything about getting undressed, or otherwise; in fact her directions were a bit vague. She didn’t want to overstep, or do anything that she wasn’t told to do. 

So Hermione sat on the bed, shivering in anticipation, as Bellatrix took her sweet time following her to the bed. She tilted her head down, not wanting to seem rude or anything but subservient, and waited for a command or for something to happen. After more than a few moments passed, Hermione became sure that Bellatrix was making her wait just to play around with her and tease her into becoming more frustrated and needy. 

_Well it’s working._

She couldn’t help but feel incredibly hot and bothered as she waited patiently for any sort of response from Bellatrix. As if on cue, a sudden warmth was pressed to Hermione’s back as Bellatrix settled herself to be sitting directly behind her, so close that she could feel the deep breaths Bellatrix was taking. 

Bellatrix settled her legs on either side of Hermione and placed a firm hand on her thigh, grasping tightly, while the other hand harshly angled Hermione’s head to make eye contact. There was unabashed desire blazing in Bellatrix’s dark eyes, her piercing gaze completely enveloping Hermione in a sense of lust. It was then that Hermione realized that Bellatrix was in fact, wearing substantially less clothes than before, and that the warmth from behind was coming from Bellatrix’s bare skin. 

Peering down slightly, Hermione glimpsed vast expanses of smooth, pale skin. It seemed that Bellatrix was trying to kill her with how sexy she looked; the dark witch had donned a lace black bra that left very little to the imagination and matching dark panties. Hermione slowly grazed her eyes over the soft, full breasts that were spilling out of the too-tight bra, and immediately the breath caught in her throat. She would do anything to feel Bellatrix, to be able to palm the woman’s breasts in her hands and worship her. 

“We’re going over ground rules first; I won’t be having you misbehaving or getting yourself hurt. Am I clear?” Bellatrix said lowly into Hermione’s ear, breaking her reverie. 

Immediately Hermione pressed herself backwards, closer to the warmth and husky smell that emanated from Bellatrix, humming her assent as she peered back up and into her eyes. 

“Of course, Mistress,” she recited dutifully. 

Bellatrix seemed pleased at her response and moved her hand even further up Hermione’s thigh until it was placed possessively on her upper thigh. Hermione gently bucked up at this, wanting to feel even more of the delicious touch. Feeling Bellatrix so close, yet so far, did wonders to drive Hermione crazy.

“You’ve heard of the stoplight safeword system from your presumed research, I assume?” Bellatrix questioned. 

“Yes Mistress, I’ve read about it,” came Hermione’s quick response. She was grateful to Bellatrix for being considerate and safe to set up safeguards, but she wanted nothing more than cut to the chase and to be fucked properly by her Professor, for she could think of absolutely nothing else.

“Good girl. We’ll be using that tonight for your safety and mine. Green for go, yellow for slow, red for stop. I’ll be checking in now and then. Understood?” Bellatrix placed a soft kiss to the side of Hermione’s neck in question, only serving to raise her fervor. 

“Yes, yes, please, just fuck me, Mistress,” Hermione couldn’t help her response, just panted out a desperate plea. 

Finally, Bellatrix seemed fed up with the pretenses and waved her hand to wandlessly disrobe Hermione. Suddenly, Hermione was stark naked and pressed soundly against Bellatrix’s front. It felt absolutely _delicious_ to be pressed up so close to Bellatrix, to be able to have direct skin on skin contact, and it made Hermione whine loudly in response.

Bellatrix moved her hand to just barely ghost her finger down Hermione’s sopping wet slit. Immediately, Hermione gasped at the contact, tilting her hips up and forward for easier access. Bellatrix only chuckled darkly at this action, and again drew her finger down her slit, applying only a bit more pressure than before. A strangled groan came from Hermione when Bellatrix traced her finger back up and pressed lightly against her desperate clit.

“You make some nice noises, Mudpuppy,” Bellatrix practically purred into Hermione’s ear. She took a moment to bite lightly at Hermione’s neck before moving a hand over Hermione’s left breast. Squeezing lightly, Bellatrix again ghosted a finger over her clit, eliciting another desperate groan from the young witch. Hermione was completely ensnared in Bellatrix’s hold, but would not rather be anywhere else. She was desperate to give up control to the dark witch.

Gathering more wetness near her entrance, Bellatrix then took her hand away from Hermione’s core to slide her wet fingers directly into Hermione’s unknowing mouth.

“Clean my fingers. Taste how wet you are for me,” Bellatrix commanded her. Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had drawn Bellatrix’s two longest fingers deep into her mouth, sucking greedily and pitifully moaning at her own sharp taste. It was almost pathetic how wet she had gotten at this point, but she only continued to want more.

As quickly as they came, Bellatrix’s fingers left her mouth and moved down to securely swirl a finger teasingly around Hermione’s clit. Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed as she reveled in the sensation of having her Professor’s hands on her. When they made eye contact again, Bellatrix could see the hazy glint in Hermione’s eyes and only moved faster in response to seeing the waves of submission coming from the younger witch. Hermione had completely melted into Bellatrix’s embrace, falling backwards into her touch, feeling thoroughly intoxicated by the dark witch.

Many moments passed where Bellatrix continued to press her fingertip over Hermione’s swollen clit, only to move again, gently pressing and sliding her fingers all along Hermione’s wet folds. Broken cries came from Hermione’s mouth with every pass over her clit; soft, delicate cries, but not quiet enough to be missed by Bellatrix, who was paying rapt attention to every reaction and sound coming from the younger girl.

Out of nowhere, Bellatrix stopped her ministrations to move backwards and away from Hermione only to then roughly grab a fistful of her chestnut curls. The Gryffindor was already putty in Bellatrix’s hands, so she could do nothing to stop the dark witch from dragging her backwards by her hair above her neck and depositing her at the head of the bed. She then quickly moved to straddle Hermione, effectively pinning the younger girl to the bed with her body weight. 

Bellatrix looked completely natural on top of Hermione, sitting back lightly on her haunches as her dark brown eyes seemed to devour Hermione’s naked body. Even here, in the preludes of sex, the dark witch had a sense of regality and influence about her. She was also definitely ogling the girl beneath her, but she had no shame about it. She took her time to peer at Hermione’s small, pert breasts that were topped with perfect little pink nipples, and then took the time to briefly catch Hermione’s eyes before going back to observing her. Bellatrix almost seemed to be playing a game with Hermione’s attention while simultaneously teasing her.

Bellatrix reached out a hand to settle firmly on Hermione’s breast, gently caressing it before leaning forward so that she could give the younger witch a few ravenous kisses before breathing out, “I’m going to fuck you, pet, but I’m going to take my time with you.” 

Hermione felt blessed to be the focus of Bellatrix’s attention, but wanted more immediately, _needed_ more. She let out a pitiful whine from deep within her, but Bellatrix only smiled. 

Bellatrix shifted downwards so that she was hovering over Hermione, one hand placed firmly against the bed for support, and the other beginning to trail down Hermione’s heaving chest. Bellatrix took her time as she gently pressed the pads of her fingers on the lower half of Hermione’s ribcage, taking a moment to pause before moving her hand lower and swirling a finger around her belly button.

Hermione canted her hips up at Bellatrix’s hand, feeling increasingly frustrated at the fact that she wasn’t being fucked right this second, as the woman above her took her time to explore her body at a leisurely pace.

“Be patient, Muddy. Don’t be too greedy, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to be a good pet for me, hm?” Bellatrix was smiling almost maniacally at this point, never stopping her deft fingers, as she taunted Hermione with her teasingly childish voice. Hermione knew not to answer, and knew that she shouldn’t be thinking so loudly that Bellatrix could hear her without even trying, but she was completely consumed in the lust she felt. Her eyes fluttered closed when Bellatrix mercifully relented and shifted her hand down to again trace softly against Hermione’s wet slit. If her eyes were open, she would have seen how Bellatrix was solemnly watching her own hand work against Hermione’s sex, seemingly enraptured in watching how the girl reacted in response to her touch.

Hermione only screwed her eyes shut harder when Bellatrix leaned down and placed a kiss upon her pert nipple. Suddenly, Bellatrix took her entire nipple into her mouth and began to suck and tug on it in an alarmingly arousing way. The older witch seemed to have mastered the art of intermingling pain and pleasure, because Hermione only became more wet when Bellatrix began to incorporate sharp teeth into her soft flesh. Hermione’s hand flew up to desperately grab at Bellatrix’s wild curls, only to push the woman closer to her breast. She buried her fingers deeper into the dark mane and moaned wantonly when Bellatrix only began suckling more firmly and started to move her fingers towards Hermione’s entrance.

Pausing, Bellatrix looked up from Hermione’s breast to make eye contact with the younger witch. Hermione was frozen, and she could only watch in anticipation as Bellatrix’s eyes became impossibly darker and her fingers began to gently prod near Hermione’s entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” Hermione let out, trying to relax herself slightly so that Bellatrix wouldn’t hurt her unintentionally. 

Bellatrix moved herself so that her face was directly in front of Hermione’s and pierced the younger woman with her dark gaze. Hermione’s eyes were completely blown and filled with lust, and Bellatrix kept her own eyes trained on the girl to gauge her reaction. At the same time, Bellatrix secretly delighted in this intimate eye contact that she had, for the view into Hermione’s glossy honey eyes was wonderful and thrilling. The girl was so pliable.

Once more, Bellatrix’s fingers moved up and down Hermione’s slit, gathering wetness, before finally, _finally_ , pushing two fingers into Hermione’s core. Immediately, Hermione’s legs opened even wider for easier access and she let out a long, low groan at the feeling of the older witch’s fingers. Bellatrix seemed extremely pleased with this response, slowly sinking her fingers even further into Hermione’s sweet cunt as she leaned forward to catch the girl’s lips. Hermione was practically feral once Bellatrix had completely pushed her long fingers into her, desperately rolling her hips to try and pull the woman’s fingers in deeper somehow. 

“Fuck, puppy, you feel good,” Bellatrix practically purred when she pulled back from the searing kiss. Looking back down at Hermione, the dark witch began to slowly move her fingers out, before pushing back in again at the same tortuously slow pace. “Do you like how I fuck you?”

“Yes, Mistress, yes please,” Hermione panted out lowly. Desperate for more contact, she reached out an arm to grasp at Bellatrix’s strong bicep that was holding her up, and surged up to kiss her once more. Immediately, Bellatrix took control of the kiss, forcefully pushing her tongue into Hermione’s waiting mouth as she continued her ministrations. The woman’s tongue was hot silk, gracefully claiming every inch of Hermione’s mouth.

Hermione moaned into the kiss, a surge of wetness flooding out when Bellatrix’s soft tongue curled even deeper into her mouth. The dark witch continued kissing her furiously while still thrusting into her at a gentle pace. Hermione quickly got frustrated with this pace after a few drawn out moments and broke the kiss, panting, as she looked up at Bellatrix’s wide charcoal eyes. 

“Please, Mistress, more,” she whined, canting her hips up so that Bellatrix’s palm just barely brushed her aching clit. 

Bellatrix seemed to take a sort of pity on the girl beneath her, and only slightly hooked her fingers upwards into Hermione, but even this small movement had the brunette releasing little puffs of air with every stroke. “Oh, _yes_ ,” Hermione managed to cry out.

The dark witch shifted barely so that Hermione’s slim hips were at a slightly different angle and then truly began her onslaught. At this new angle, her palm ground down onto Hermione’s slick mound forcefully with every deep thrust of her fingers, and Bellatrix leaned forward so that she could nibble on the girl’s ear. 

She couldn’t help but to release a whine as Bellatrix began to set an almost brutal pace, firmly thrusting her fingers into Hermione’s sopping wet entrance. The older woman finally seemed to give in to her desperate pleas and was truly fucking her in earnest. Hermione’s eyes began to roll to the back of her head after just a few moments of feeling Bellatrix’s fingers hit a delicious sweet spot somewhere within her, and some deep pressure began to build within her. She could feel the small breaths of air coming from Bellatrix’s warm mouth directly next to her ear as the dark witch ferociously corkscrewed her fingers into her awaiting cunt.

“Merlin!” Hermione cried out, but Bellatrix only continued to move at an unrelenting pace. “I-I’m, you’re gonna-”

“Make you cum?” Bellatrix interrupted. “Good, I want to feel you shake beneath me, little Muddy.” 

Hearing those words fall from Bellatrix’s lips only worked to bring Hermione even closer to the edge. Something about the casual way her Professor said those words, words that were both derogatory and condescending, made her core clench tightly and made her brain go to mush for some twisted reason. Hermione’s eyes closed completely after a few moments and went limp underneath the dark witch as Bellatrix’s swift fingers continued to slam mercilessly into her. A small bit of pain registered somewhere in the back of Hermione’s mind, a sort of uncomfortable pinching at the feeling of being fucked so roughly, but the sheer amounts of pleasure that she was feeling from the same thing completely overrode any notions of pain, only elevating her feeling of bliss.

Hermione’s breaths were becoming more quick and shallow as Bellatrix continued, and the older witch seemed to know that this was the perfect time to tease her, hold her over the edge. Bellatrix took her head out of the crook of Hermione’s neck where it was and took a long moment to draw the flat of her tongue possessively across the entirety of her cheek and up her face. Hermione could only let out a pitiful groan at the delightful feeling of being marked by the dark witch. 

“You’re mine, pet, and so you’ll have to ask to cum,” Bellatrix said deviously, only further asserting her claim of possession over Hermione.

The ache within her took precedence over any sort of shame or humiliation she should have felt by asking, so Hermione barely took a moment to breathe before rushing out, “Can I please cum, Mistress?” 

But Bellatrix didn’t answer her, she just continued to roughly finger the girl beneath her, never slowing down. Hermione’s eyes flew open immediately, a look of desperation and panic overcoming her features at the sudden realization that the dark witch hadn’t given her permission, and she was soon approaching an edge she couldn’t back away from. Bellatrix only smirked at the distraught look on the younger witch’s face and leaned back down so that she could place a wet kiss on the side of Hermione’s neck.

“Try again,” Bellatrix said.

Hermione whined, desperate for release. She could barely think through the haze of her impending orgasm, much less try and form any sort of convincing argument; so she began to beg.

“Oh, _please_ , Mistress, may I cum for you? I-I just want to be good,” she tried, hoping that Bellatrix would take some pity on her and finally give her permission. Bellatrix then soundly kissed Hermione before a pleased look came across her features, looking as if she was the cat who just caught the canary.

“You may.”

As soon as the words left Bellatrix’s mouth, the dark witch leaned down to roughly bite the sinews of Hermione’s neck between her teeth. A feral moan left Hermione’s throat at the pain, and within moments she could feel her orgasm start to creep up, and then rush over her like a flash flood. Her legs began to shake and she could feel herself clenched tightly around Bellatrix’s skilled fingers that never once slowed down, somehow only increasing her pleasure. Only when her entire body began to quiver from her orgasm did Bellatrix begin to slow down, her fingers eventually slowing to a halt still deep inside of Hermione.

As she came down from her orgasm, Hermione felt light and tingly all over. She barely registered Bellatrix finally unlatching her jaw and beginning to place soothing, almost apologetic kisses upon her shoulders and up her neck. Her focus only came back to her when Bellatrix finally slipped out of her leaking pussy to wipe her fingers on the sheets next to them. Bellatrix, still hovering possessively over Hermione, leaned down to softly kiss the witch beneath her. Even in her haze, Hermione could tell that this kiss was different than the rest; Bellatrix wasn’t demanding or controlling, only soothing and soft, working dutifully to calm her down from her high. When Hermione opened her eyes, Bellatrix was there, her face mere inches from her own. Before she could say anything, the dark witch opened her mouth to speak.

“Good girl,” Bellatrix purred, her gaze softening when Hermione’s soft eyes came into view, “You did well.”

Hermione could have started crying right then and there from the overwhelming feeling of joy coming from deep within her chest at finally being praised, and being praised so affectionately. She reached her arms up to snake tightly around Bellatrix’s neck so she could pull her fully on top of her, the older witch’s weight firmly pressing Hermione into the plush bed. Feeling the warmth and comfort emanating from the Professor only made Hermione feel more blissful. She took a chance and buried her head into the crook of Bellatrix’s neck, quickly placing a light kiss there. 

“Thank you, Mistress,” Hermione said earnestly, “Thank you so much.” Moving back so she could make eye contact, Hermione was surprised to see that Bellatrix almost looked shocked at what she said, as if Hermione thanking her for this was something that startled her.

Bellatrix paused, not quite knowing what to say or what to do. After a moment, she leaned down to place another kiss upon Hermione’s lips before gracefully collapsing onto her side to lay beside the brunette. The dark witch again paused, seeming uncertain and scrunching her eyebrows in thought, before reaching over to grasp at Hermione, shifting the younger witch so that they were spooning, with Hermione held securely against Bellatrix’s chest. 

“Be quiet, Mudpuppy,” was all Bellatrix said, but even those few words had her heart soaring. It seemed as if Bellatrix didn’t know what else to do to while Hermione came down from her submissive headspace, but a few gruff words of comfort from the woman of her dreams only made her relax further into Bellatrix’s firm embrace. 

“I’m not done with you yet, I still have many questions for you, girl,” Bellatrix said. Even though she said this in an unaffected tone, her actions betrayed her accusatory words, for she shifted herself so that one arm was draped possessively over a hip bone while the other reached under Hermione’s neck to bend and rest a palm directly over Hermione’s beating heart.

Hermione knew that in a few minutes, Bellatrix would probably regret what she had done, and then she would probably ask her multiple embarrassing questions about how long she’d been fantasizing about her and accuse her of being a stalker pervert of some sort. But she couldn’t really bring herself to care. Here, in Bellatrix’s arms, Hermione let her brain finally turn off for a few minutes, and laid peacefully in a secure embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m drawing out one night into like 3 chapters I ain’t sorry a lot is happening and a lot will still happen.
> 
> Comments and feedback are appreciated!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your interest and patience, things are crazy right now and this chapter has gotten away from me at times. As always, comments are appreciated.

After more than a few minutes of cuddling, Bellatrix moved to unwrap her arms from around Hermione and carefully sat up. Feeling disgruntled with this change, Hermione turned around to peer over her shoulder and up through her eyelashes at the dark witch. Bellatrix was still in her matching black underwear, except now she was looking decidedly more disheveled than before. Her luscious black curls had become truly wild after Hermione had dragged her fingers through it, and her lips were flushed and swollen from all of the kissing they had done. The lecherous look deep within Bellatrix’s eyes had never once left, though, betraying her arousal. 

“I’m going to freshen up, and then we can talk,” Bellatrix announced, quickly and silently getting up off of the bed and walking to a door placed on the far left wall of the room before Hermione could do about it. With an echoing _click_ from the door shutting, she was suddenly alone.

Hermione sat up, self consciously crossing her arms over her bare chest as she peered at the bathroom door with a forlorn look. She was confused as to why Bellatrix had decided to leave her alone, but took the few moments alone to look at her surroundings more carefully. With the state she was in when she initially entered the room, it was unsurprising that she didn’t take much time to get her bearings, and maybe Hermione could gain clues about Bellatrix from her room.

Bellatrix’s bedroom was regal, to say the least. The room was unnecessarily large, with enough space for a full proper sitting nook in the right corner near the door, complete with overly-large sitting chairs and an ornate fireplace, assumedly connected to the Floo network. The left wall, where the door to the bathroom was, sported multiple huge wooden bookcases, most of them overflowing with books of varying sizes and conditions. A huge dark oak desk dominated that corner of the room, complete with a multitude of scrolls and papers that had yet to be graded. The entire room was covered in dark colors and furnishings, with more than a few deep green rugs truly befitting the Head of Slytherin. The entire room truly betrayed Bellatrix’s wealthy upbringing and status as the head of the House of Black. However opulent the room was, it was still quite messy, with piles and piles of books and loose parchment lying about on the furniture and piled on the floor, despite the bookshelves and the desk on the left side of the room. It seemed as if everything in her room was like a house elf had cleaned it, just not tidied up Bellatrix’s various messes. 

Before long, Hermione was done taking in her surroundings and went about waiting for the dark witch to reappear. She sat cross-legged on Bellatrix’s bed, fingers nervously dawdling, still completely nude. It occurred to her that she could quickly wave her wand and summon her discarded clothes, but something stopped her. It felt wrong to do something that she wasn’t explicitly ordered to do. In any other situation, Hermione was self-driven and fiercely independent, but it didn’t feel right in this specific situation to go against anything Bellatrix had told her previously. She didn’t want to do anything wrong, didn’t want to misstep at all, and give her Professor a reason to reject her and say this was all a mistake.

But too quickly Hermione started to overthink. Being the brains of the Golden Trio came with downsides, one of which was the fact that Hermione could rarely turn her brain off. It was constantly running in overtime, trying to process a hundred and one things at once, which often caused her undue anxiety and stress. Many more moments passed without the arrival of Bellatrix, and Hermione began to get nervous. Was this a dismissal? A sign that she had done poorly? She _needed_ this to go well, and was becoming doubtful that she had been a good submissive for her Mistress. Could she even call Bellatrix that? _Her_ Mistress? Bellatrix had occupied a space in Hermione’s heart and mind for many months, but having sex wasn’t a truly valid reason to be possessive over the dark witch, she knew. Or, at least, she thought she knew, but once she started thinking too hard, her thoughts became warped with anxiety. 

A warm hand gripped her shoulder, breaking Hermione out of her panicked thoughts and forcing her back to the present.

“Why are you thinking so loudly again?”

Bellatrix stood by the edge of the bed, an outstretched hand placed firmly on Hermione’s shoulder, and a concerned look on her regal, aristocratic features. When Hermione made eye contact with Bellatrix, a breath of anxious air immediately left her. Her usually dark stormy gaze was soft and concerned for once, and her lips were pursed and downturned. 

“Hm? I still expect an answer,” Bellatrix said softly, but with an undeniable air of authority. 

Hermione couldn’t leave the dark witch with an unanswered question, but she was determined to be cautious, and to not disappoint Bellatrix. “I just get in my own head, sometimes,” Hermione responded, ducking her head. It wasn’t a lie by any means, Hermione often got lost within her thoughts, it just wasn’t the full truth, for she didn’t want to expose her anxieties and fears. 

“Pet, I could literally hear your thoughts, you really must work on that,” Bellatrix said casually, much to Hermione’s embarrassment. Was she really thinking that loudly? How did Bellatrix read her mind so casually? “Stand up.”

Surprised by the command, Hermione paused for a moment to look back up at Bellatrix, only to see the same mildly concerned look on her face and a quirked eyebrow. Slowly, Hermione untangled her legs so she stood directly next to the edge of the bed.

“Kneel.”

Feeling a bit more shaky and less desperate than the first time she heard that command, Hermione slowly sank to her knees in front of Bellatrix. Still determined to behave well, she adjusted her posture until her back was straight and her head was tilted downwards in a show of submission, and braced for the inevitable. She heard a puff of air beside her as Bellatrix sat herself on the bed once more.

“Look at me, pet,” Bellatrix murmured gently, reaching a hand down to tilt up Hermione’s chin with one finger. Hermione relaxed a fraction when she saw the mildly impassive look on her Professor’s face, finding comfort in the power and confidence she always exuded. The woman was unflappable, and it gave Hermione courage. Bellatrix smiled briefly when they made eye contact, but then a neutral mask slipped back on, and she paused for a moment.

Then, Bellatrix did something Hermione completely didn’t expect. None too gently, Bellatrix reached her hand to grab the back of Hermione’s neck and pressed the younger girl’s head directly into her warm thigh. She gripped the nape of her neck firmly and securely while she soothingly began to run the other hand over Hermione’s mussed hair, carding her fingers through the slight brown curls.

Hermione immediately closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of Bellatrix’s soft thigh pressed firmly against her cheek. The hand that was secured firmly on the nape of her neck was working to bring her to a more passive and relaxed state as Bellatrix’s pale fingers continued to work through her hair. The dark witch seemed to know exactly how to ground her and bring her back to reality.

“You don’t have to think so hard right now. I’ll take care of you when you’re my pet,” the Professor practically purred. 

This gentle show of dominance and security made Hermione melt mentally, and then physically melt, so that the length of her body was pressed flush against the entirety of Bellatrix’s bare leg. She couldn’t help but release a small whimper at the words because of how amazing and erotic it felt to have Bellatrix call her _hers._

The older witch began to absentmindedly twirl a strand of Hermione’s mousy brown hair between her fingers, taking time to feel how soft the younger girl’s hair truly was, and giving her a chance to try and respond coherently. Hermione took a deep breath in through her nose, reveling in the dark, sharp scent of Bellatrix, and enjoying the firm constant pressure of her hand on the nape of her neck. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I-I was thinking too much, I didn’t mean to misbehave,” Hermione said quietly after a few more moments.

Bellatrix snorted lightly at this, seemingly amused. She continued to soothe Hermione with her gentle caresses, never pausing when she responded with, “You didn’t misbehave, little one, I didn’t give you any order to disobey.”

Again, this response sort of shocked Hermione, for she wasn’t expecting Bellatrix’s strong, commanding voice to drop down into a soft coo to talk to her, and she certainly wasn’t expecting to be comforted like this. But she was never one to take things for granted, and so she continued to kneel at Bellatrix’s feet and gratefully press her cheeks against the other woman’s thighs, humming in contentment. 

After a few moments, Hermione dared to tilt her head up and look up through her eyelashes at Bellatrix. The dark witch was seemingly amused at Hermione’s display of rubbing her face against her leg like some sort of praised animal, and flashed the Gryffindor a toothy smile.

“All I wanted was to ask a few questions, pet, hm?” Bellatrix crooned, a sugary sweet tone dripping from her voice, borderline condescending, but enough to give Hermione a chill that ran through her spine. 

Not trusting her words, Hermione just nodded at the woman above her, hoping that Bellatrix was asking a rhetorical question that she didn’t actually have to answer. 

“How did you find me at that club, _really_?”

_Well.  
_

Bellatrix certainly wasn’t wasting any time, but Hermione should’ve expected nothing less from the noticeably impatient witch. 

“I told you, I asked someone to look into where you went on Hogsmeade weekends, since no one has ever seen you there. I put two and two together and figured you must’ve been doing something off Hogwarts grounds. I... I had a feeling that you were...” she trailed off, unable to find the right word. 

“Perverted?” Bellatrix supplied, obviously amused with the situation and Hermione’s mild discomfort. 

Hermione couldn’t help the snort that escaped her at this. “I would’ve said sadistic.”

This was by all means true. Anyone in any of Bellatrix’s classes could see that the woman was clearly a sadist, constantly taking pleasure in bullying students and pushing people to their academic limits. People like Hermione. Bellatrix had pushed her buttons constantly and consistently ever since she had first graced Hogwarts’ halls as a first year. Her friends were often convinced that her Professor perpetually had a bone to pick with her. 

Bellatrix tilted her head at this, eyebrows shooting upwards. Still, she had a deep smirk on her face. Taking a pregnant pause, the dark witch chuckled to herself momentarily before leaning down so she was inches from Hermione’s face so that she could say, “I’m sure you’ll find out how true that is.”

This sent a deep shiver down Hermione’s spine, something that Bellatrix immediately picked up on and seemed delighted by. Nonetheless, she continued her line of questioning, still softly caressing the girl beneath her. 

“Who did you ask to look into me?” 

Immediately, a scarlet blush started to creep up Hermione’s neck at the question. Out of all the questions she could’ve been asked, this was the one that she was least prepared for and most embarrassed by, because Bellatrix could easily become furious when she found out which of Hermione’s friends it was. She desperately hoped that this information wouldn’t upset Bellatrix, or give her reason to dismiss her. 

Sensing her hesitation, Bellatrix placed a single finger under Hermione’s chin so that she could angle the younger witch’s head towards her. She didn’t even have to say anything, and only gave Hermione a sharp commanding look, waiting impatiently for an answer. 

“Uh, Fred Weasley, Mistress,” she answered dutifully, even though by now her ears were burning red with embarrassment.

Bellatrix’s dark eyes flashed with rage immediately, and she took a deep breath in thru her nose, flaring her nostrils angrily. The Professor notoriously never got along well with any of the Weasley children she taught during her tenure.

“H-he only found the name of the club, he doesn’t know a-anything else,” Hermione tried, trying to find something to appease Bellatrix. 

The dark witch above her clenched her jaw in thought. Her eyes darted around wildly, seemingly in thought, as Hermione waited with bated breath beneath her, hoping that this wouldn’t ruin her chances of continuing to be Bellatrix’s submissive.

After many moments of silent thought, Bellatrix finally unclenched her jaw and returned her gaze to the girl kneeling in front of her. Her eyes still carried a flicker of anger, but Hermione felt as if she was in considerably less danger than before.

“Let’s say this,” Bellatrix started, tilting her head almost like a dog, “If I find out if anyone else knows about my...proclivities, then I know who to blame.”

The dark way that Bellatrix said that sent deep shivers through Hermione, a sharp combination of fear and anxiety. Surely, Fred couldn’t have known anything? Truly, she had tried to be discreet when asking for this favor from him, because she couldn’t imagine the embarrassment if he looked into it and confronted her about her obvious interest in Professor Black. He had never given her any reason to doubt his trustworthiness, or the validity of his information, so she dared to take the risk. 

Scrambling for a response, Hermione just stuttered out the first appeasing thing she could think of, “I-I, uh, I understand, Mistress. I swear, no one knows anything.”

Closing her eyes, she nuzzled her nose carefully and apologetically into Bellatrix’s knee before placing her cheek on it to look up in waiting for a response from the dark witch. 

The corners of Bellatrix’s mouth perked up slightly into a smirk at the display of reverence and affection. After a moment's pause, she threaded her fingers through Hermione curls again, enjoying the way the younger witch hummed pleasantly at the action.

“I’m sure you can find a way of making it up to me then, hm?” The dark witch asked teasingly, raising her voice almost like a child.

Immediately Hermione’s eyes widened. Was this an opportunity to make up for angering Bellatrix?

After a few moments had passed, Bellatrix seemed to make up her mind about something, and unthreaded her fingers from Hermione’s hair to push the girl slightly away so she could open her legs. Suddenly, Hermione was kneeling directly in front of Bellatrix with her crotch at eye level, just barely covered by the black slip that the Professor wore. Looking back up, Hermione saw Bellatrix quirk an eyebrow up and her gaze hardened, a silent command on her elegant features. 

_Oh Merlin, she’s going to be the death of me and it’ll be glorious._

It took less than a second for Hermione to realize that she wanted her to eat her out, and while that sent a deep pulse of attraction and anticipation through her core, it also caused her anxiety. She was woefully underprepared. 

“Mistress I-” she started, turning her eyes downwards embarrassedly, “I’ve never done _that_ before.” 

If anything, her inexperience seemed to delight Bellatrix. It caused her Professor to get a dark, predatory look deep in her eyes as if she was about to set upon Hermione and devour her. Leaning back on her arms, Bellatrix spread her legs even further so that it was literally all Hermione could look at from her position of kneeling on the floor. 

“I guess you’ll have to learn, pet. I know how studious you are.”

From here, less than a foot away from Bellatrix’s barely covered pussy, Hermione could smell the deep scent of wetness from the other woman. It seemed as if ‘going to freshen up’ did absolutely nothing to ease the older woman’s arousal.

Hermione was conflicted. She’d never done anything with her mouth before, and she was afraid that her inexperience would lead to failure when all she wanted was to succeed and please Bellatrix. At the same time though, this wasn’t an opportunity she would squander. In fact, Hermione had spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining just this; being on her knees at Bellatrix’s disposal and being ordered to please the dark witch in whatever way she saw fit. Immediately, she began to get wet again, a deep ache settling within her.

“Kiss my thighs,” came the unexpected words from above her. Looking up, she could see how blown Bellatrix’s onyx eyes were, and how the older woman seemed to be looking at Hermione like a piece of meat. At the same time, this was juxtaposed by her softly spoken words that gave the Gryffindor the direction and courage that she needed.

Inhaling the dark scent coming from the Professor, Hermione chanced to scoot forward on her knees so that her face was now mere inches from Bellatrix’s awaiting core. Before she got too scared, she followed her orders and placed a soft kiss upon her creamy inner thigh. Emboldened by the first kiss, she quickly placed another directly next to the first. She spared a glance upwards to gauge Bellatrix’s reaction, but she saw the same anticipating look.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her thoughts and tried to feel more connected with what was happening then and there, not what was happening in her thoughts. Her fears and insecurities were holding her back when she knew that she had the ability to learn quickly and was determined to please her Mistress. 

_Her_ Mistress. 

Feeling more at ease, Hermione took another breath before placing another short kiss onto Bellatrix’s thigh. She gathered her courage enough to keep kissing her thighs up and closer to Bellatrix’s awaiting pussy until she was at the edge of the woman’s black underwear. Hoping that this would please her, Hermione tried something that had been suggested to her.

“May I please kiss you there, Mistress?” She asked, angling her head up so that she could look up at Bellatrix leaning back, grinning like a cat who caught the canary. She was definitely pleased with how she asked for permission, and it made a deep warmth bloom in Hermione’s chest. 

With a quick flick of a wand and a muttered _divesto_ , she was quickly bare in front of Hermione. “Be a good girl, hm?” Suddenly, Bellatrix’s glistening folds were in view and her breath caught in her throat momentarily. Had _she_ made the Professor that wet? 

She ignored the nervous voice in the back of her head and instead listened to her submissive instinct and desire to please. Tentatively, Hermione dragged the flat of her tongue in a broad stroke upwards to lick the entirety of Bellatrix’s core in one go. The sharp salty taste of the dark witch immediately had her thighs clenched in anticipation. She looked up to see the lust filled look on the dark witch’s face and immediately repeated the action once, twice, three times until Bellatrix finally released a pleased sigh and relaxed slightly. 

Taking this as a sign she was doing well, Hermione felt emboldened by this slight affirmation. She then truly began to eat Bellatrix out in earnest; she continued with her slow flat licks up the length of Bellatrix’s slit before daring to flick the tip of her tongue at her clit. Immediately, the older woman let out a feral sort of sound, a mixture between a muffled keen and a deep growl at Hermione’s actions. 

The sound that left her Mistress made a flood of arousal start to drip out from her. Anyone could easily call Bellatrix animalistic in nature, but hearing this raw and feral sound made Hermione’s submissive side reel in pleasure, aching for more. 

Increasing her efforts, she did the same flicking motion again, this time with a bit more pressure, and was rewarded with Bellatrix’s slim fingers roughly grabbing her hair to shove her face deeper into her so that Hermione’s nose just barely touched the thick patch of dark curls above her clit. Taking this as a command, she only continued her passionate licks, this time alternating between less and more pressure as she attacked Bellatrix’s clit with her tongue. 

If she wasn’t so focused and chanced a glance up, she would’ve seen the way the dark witch’s chest heaved in response, but Hermione was solely focused on her task. At this point, some of Bellatrix’s sticky arousal had gotten on her chin and The rest of her face, but she didn’t care, only continued with fervor. 

Hermione decided to switch her tactics and go back to the broad licks that seemed to please her Mistress. But after more than a few moments, a choked out phrase caused her to freeze for a moment. 

“Faster, pet.”

Immediately she redoubled her efforts, not daring to disobey a command, and was rewarded by a low moan from above her. Here, kneeling in front of Bellatrix, eating her out, was where Hermione felt she belonged.

Before long, Bellatrix’s thighs were noticeably getting stiffer and her breaths getting heavier. Hermione took a chance to look up, never stopping her fervent licking, only to be graced with the image of Bellatrix on the edge of orgasm. A pale hand was furiously tugging on dark, erect nipples as the other hand only continued to push Hermione’s entire face into her sopping wet pussy. It was easily the most beautiful and enrapturing scene she had ever seen. Unable to take her eyes away now, she started to circle lightly around Bellatrix’s clit, around and around before flicking it more roughly with the tip of her tongue. The dark witch only tightened her grip on Hermione’s hair and let out a long, low whine. 

“Don’t stop.”

Knowing that her Mistress was close, she began to lick at her folds furiously, deeply enjoying the slick wet noises that were coming from her mouth. She continued to swirl her tongue around her stiff clit over and over again until Hermione got an idea. She opened her mouth slightly only to close it around Bellatrix’s clit, creating a seal, and sucking it greedily into her mouth. 

She was rewarded with a loud “ _Merlin!_ ” coming from above her, Bellatrix’s thighs clamping around her head, and a rush of wetness from below her mouth. _Did I just make her...?_ Still, she didn’t dare release her clit from her mouth, continuing to draw out low moans with her insistent suckling. After a few moments, Bellatrix’s thighs started to tremble, and the woman tugged Hermione back marginally by the grip in her hair. 

When Hermione looked up, she wasn’t immediately greeted by the dark witch’s strong gaze like she was expecting. Instead, Bellatrix had tilted her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes, obviously trying to catch her breath. A slight sheen of sweat was glistening on her bare torso, accentuated by her heaving chest and erect nipples. Hermione was immediately enraptured with the sight of her Mistress post orgasm, and became desperate to do it again.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself yet, girl,” Bellatrix chuckled. Hermione couldn’t tell if the Professor read her mind, as she was a skilled Legilimens and had before, or was just reading her eager body language, since she practically had to tear her mouth away. 

A few more moments was all it took for Bellatrix to pull herself together, as she calmed her rapid breathing and sat back up. Suddenly dragging her up by her mussed up hair, Bellatrix brought Hermione up off her knees until their gazes were level. Somehow, Bellatrix managed to look more put together than Hermione did; the dark witch’s hair looked like she had been in a fight with a thorn bush, but the smug and confident look on her face spoke volumes. Hermione, however, looked more affected somehow, since her breathing was erratic and her pupils were blown.

Humming thoughtfully, Bellatrix said, “You did quite well.” With a finger, she tilted Hermione’s head up awkwardly so that her neck was bared. Hermione felt incredibly exposed like this. Slowly, dangerously, she dragged a sharp nail down the length of her pulse, amused at the racing heartbeat she could feel. “I'll have to keep you then, pet. Would you like that?”

Hermione was surprised at the fact that the Professor was not being at all sarcastic or condescending like usual, and instead seemed more calm and considerate. Her dark brown eyes were shining with mischief, but also genuine delight. The surprise wore off immediately though when she realized the meaning behind Bellatrix’s words; she had finally proven herself. 

Unable to stop herself, Hermione launched forward to wrap her arms around Bellatrix’s bare torso and nuzzled her face into the crook of her neck. It was like a wave of relief had rushed over her and she just crumpled into her Mistress’s arms out of sheer emotion. 

_I did it._

Immediately Bellatrix grabbed the girl’s waist to steady her, and paused to take a moment to enjoy the soft and smooth skin beneath her fingers. Hermione raised her chin to speak, “Please, I’d love that.” 

A deep sigh left Hermione immediately, followed by a pleased grumble from Bellatrix. Almost groping her, the dark witch grabbed Hermione’s waist and pulled her into her lap. The Gryffindor was certainly surprised at this, but appreciated the gesture immensely. 

“We’ll still have to go over some rules, mind you, and find you a few things, but you’ve done well, Muddy,” Bellatrix purred. Something deep twisted wonderfully in Hermione’s chest, and she was almost sure it was the feeling of euphoria. She’d done it. She could take a moment, or more, to sit here curled in her Mistress’s arms because she was _her’s._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways I’m in the market for a beta to read over my bullshit to help me get this shit out bc I have too many gay ideas. Anyways soft!Bellatrix was an accident at the end but a good one


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically here’s more porn w plot. Also shoutout to my beta, Danielle, for helping me make this actually coherent

The entirety of the long Easter weekend after her encounter with Bellatrix was spent thinking about the dark witch. Hermione was caught up in her memories of the night, replaying it over and over, and often found herself rereading the same page three or four times before giving up because she couldn’t focus. Trying to be productive certainly wasn’t going to go well before she got more closure from the Professor. 

The following Tuesday, she sat at a rambunctious Gryffindor table during lunch like always. With Harry and Ginny in front of her, Ron to her left, and Neville to her right, she felt truly surrounded by her House and her best friends. Ron and Harry were animatedly discussing a quidditch tactic while Neville was giving Ginny pointers on her next herbology assignment. Even amongst the jostling and the noise of a mealtime, Hermione still couldn’t bring herself to climb out of her own thoughts. 

For the past three days, all she was able to do was replay moments of her night with Bellatrix. _Her Mistress_. Their night was over shortly after the dark witch had offered to lay claim to Hermione and she gratefully accepted. If she wasn’t so caught up in the bliss of her accomplishment, she would’ve thought that Bellatrix was hurrying to end their encounter, but as it was, she could only focus on her Professor’s promise to contact her again soon.

Bellatrix had said she would contact her as soon as she found a good time to, and even though she had only been back in the castle for less than a day, time seemed to stretch on and on, and she was becoming anxious since she hadn’t gotten any news yet. Time seemed to move incredibly slowly since the long weekend where she confronted Bellatrix, probably because Hermione was constantly getting stuck in her own thoughts, replaying memories. In fact, she was so swept up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice her friend trying to get her attention. 

“‘Mione!”

Startled out of her reverie, she looked up to see the confused expression of Ginny Weasley, who looked like she was about to pinch Hermione to get her attention.

“Hm? Yeah, Gin?” Hermione clumsily responded, trying to play off her inattention. As usual though, nothing got past her best friend.

“Where are you? You’ve not eaten or said a thing,” the redhead said, gesturing to Hermione’s plate that was obviously untouched. 

She smiled sheepishly, picking up her fork to passively stick it in some roast ham she’d put on her plate. “What do you mean?” She appeasingly stuck the piece of ham in her mouth, chewing silently as Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her. Ron and Harry seemed still oblivious to anything except what they were talking about, and Neville had politely turned to another seventh year to chat once Ginny had turned her attention to Hermione. She knew that she wasn’t going to get out of this easily, especially since she was cornered.

“You’ve been distracted since we got back from the long weekend yesterday. Did something happen?” asked Ginny. As much as Hermione would love to spill her secrets to Ginny and share her excitement, she knew that the girl would never approve of what had happened, and Bellatrix clearly didn’t want anyone else to know. Also, at the same time, Hermione felt like she had to carefully guard her secret relationship, feeling almost possessive over her time with the older woman. So she pulled out the best excuse she had.

“Well, I’ve just been looking into some Ministry jobs, and trying to figure out which one I’d like to apply for.” This wasn’t exactly a lie; she had done that over the long weekend, just the day after she had met with Bellatrix. The act of doing research and trying to make logical decisions soothed Hermione, since she had been nearly frantic with worry and self doubt, and worked as a distraction for a few hours. 

Ginny scoffed immediately, taking a generous sip of her goblet of pumpkin juice before responding, “‘Mione, you know they’d all be glad to have you, you’re the smartest witch of our age!” Hermione just rolled her eyes as her friend continued, “And we both know that the Ministry has been trying to recruit you for the past year.”

Well, Ginny wasn’t wrong. Hermione had received multiple job offers from the Ministry over the past year or so, one from almost every department. It seemed that her so-called “reputation” as Golden Girl of Gryffindor had garnered some attention. To be fair, she was consistently at the top of her class for nearly every subject, and she was poised to do extremely well on her N.E.W.T.s, which she had been studying for since she’d taken her O.W.L.s in her fifth year. Still, the only people who knew about her offers from the Ministry were her fellow Lions sitting around her, and Ginny certainly knew the extent of it better than the boys. That seemed to be a trend lately. Still, it made Hermione uncomfortable to lie like this to her friend, even if it was a lie of omission to divert her attention.

“I still need to choose which one I’m most interested in, though. It’s not something to be taken lightly, Ginny,” she almost chastised. But Ginny just rolled her eyes playfully, used to the ever-present worry and concern that Hermione carried with her.

Suddenly, a nearby flutter of wings distracted Hermione from her brief conversation. She looked up to just barely catch a glimpse of a large eagle-owl rapidly flying away from her, and a moment later, a small scroll had fallen from the sky to land onto the space in front of her plate. 

She looked up to see Ginny’s expression, mildly surprised but generally disinterested. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Hermione to get mail, it was just odd for it to be delivered at lunch instead of breakfast, especially by an owl that was certainly not the one her Muggle parents used to keep in contact. _Could it be?_

She unfurled the scroll with shaking hands, and read it. 

_Next week, Wednesday. Behave until then._

_B._

If the mysterious owl wasn’t enough to prove it, the vague letter was. Bellatrix had written her. The hope that had blossomed in her chest quickly changed to a fiery impatience. It would be over a week until she could be with the other woman, and Hermione was sure she would explode with anticipation before then. Already, her thoughts were consumed by the dark witch, and she had yet to attend her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class since being with Bellatrix. Truly, this was going to be a long week. 

——

The rest of the day was a blur, to say the least. Hermione couldn’t keep focus in any of her classes, and was so distant in the library after dinner that Ginny shot her an accusatory look that made guilt bubble up deep inside of her. Sleep eluded her that night. 

By the next afternoon, right before her DADA class, she had been called out for being distant two times now. But once inside Bellatrix’s class, no one could call her inattentive.

The entire class, Hermione watched Bellatrix with intense concentration, looking for something, anything; maybe a pointed look, or a ghost of a smile, but she received nothing. Today had been one of the rare lecture days, where the Professor only talked and they listened for the entire period, rather than the usual hands on teaching method. This also meant that Bellatrix could easily avoid her gaze from the front of the classroom where she was lecturing almost lazily about the practical application section of their upcoming N.E.W.Ts, since this was after all, a N.E.W.T level class. 

The entire period passed by like that. It was absolutely excruciating; time seemed to pass by extra slowly when she was watching the Professor lecture and hyper focusing on her mouth while she talked. She was lucky she had already been preparing for exams for months, because she was sure to have missed vital information while distracted in her thoughts and mildly leering at Bellatrix. Hermione was desperate for any sort of recognition from the woman who she’d bared her soul to, but none came. It seemed like Bellatrix didn’t even look at her once. She entered and left the class without saying anything to her. 

Feeling mildly distraught, Hermione flung herself into her next class, Arithmancy, so she could quiet her swirling thoughts. The ever present logical side of her brain knew that Bellatrix was her Professor, and even though she was 18, that meant nothing; the older witch could still get in trouble with the school, and that sort of thing was generally looked down upon in society, despite the extended lifespans of witches and wizards. That was more than enough reason for her to be wary, especially in any sort of public setting. Nonetheless, Hermione’s heart still hurt from the interaction, or really, lack thereof.

Her Friday DADA class was close to the same. Bellatrix spent a good portion of the period lecturing before she told the class to split off into pairs for dueling. As usual, she forced them to pick someone from the other House they shared the class with, so Hermione eventually was paired with a lanky Ravenclaw boy.

Bellatrix circled around them all like a hawk, commenting on a random duel occasionally almost like she didn’t even think about the specific criticisms she was giving, and giving them with a sort of disdain, as if the students should’ve already known what she had to say. By the time the Professor had gotten around to the corner where Hermione and her partner were in, she didn’t even realize, since she had just soundly beat the boy for the second time in a row and was just grasping his lost wand in victory. 

The dark witch paused for a moment beside the pair, scrutinizing them, before curtly nodding and turning to another group, black robes billowing behind her. It took Hermione a good few seconds to start moving again, regaining her wits after being swept up by Bellatrix’s presence, and awkwardly tossed the boy’s wand back to him, blushing furiously. She was the only one who hadn’t gotten a comment. That night, Hermione put silencing charms around her door so that her fellow Gryffindors wouldn’t hear her moaning Bellatrix’s name as she touched herself. 

——

On Wednesday, Hermione was noticeably jittery with excitement. She’d learned to stay out of her head, for the most part, since her Friday classes where she got some sort of acknowledgement, which is all she wanted. Not knowing where things were going from here made her anxious, but a busy weekend with the boys and piles of homework kept her occupied, thankfully. Still, she entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with anticipation and some trepidation. 

She was surprised when Bellatrix was nowhere to be found, which was unusual for her. The Professor was often perched oddly on her desk when students were coming in, pointedly ignoring them until the moment class officially started. Hermione sat down at her usual desk next to Harry and fidgeted slightly. Harry had certainly noticed how antsy she had been acting the past week, but had the good grace to not mention it; unlike Ron, who sat at a table with Neville next to them, and often snickered at Hermione’s rare distracted state when she fumbled in class. 

Ron was poking fun at her for probably the third time that day when she snapped.

“Honestly, Ronald, unlike _some_ people, I have quite a bit to preoccupy myself with, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop being an arse for just a moment to maybe ask what’s on my mind. Did you ever think of that?” Hermione griped, clearly at the end of her wits with the Weasley.

Ron sat there awkwardly gaping like a fish for a moment, unsure how to respond, until someone cleared their throat nearby. Hermione suddenly noticed how the class was weirdly silent and felt the heavy presence of multiple pairs of eyes. She whipped her head around to see Bellatrix standing a few feet away from them, looking on amusedly with a crooked eyebrow. Her breath caught in her throat once she saw the predatory glint in Bellatrix’s eyes, and blushed awkwardly and turned her head down in submission. 

“Speak with me after class, Granger,” Was all Bellatrix said before promptly walking over to her desk to begin the day’s lecture, not even giving them a second glance once she started talking. 

Her and Ron’s ears were bright red in embarrassment for being scolded, especially in front of the entire class, but at least Ron seemed to regain focus afterwards; the interaction only made Hermione more flustered and anxious for whatever Bellatrix had in store.

Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes off of Bellatrix for the entirety of the lecture, and like the past few classes, the Professor completely ignored her in turn. That hurt Hermione’s heart, but her brain knew logically why the dark which wanted to treat her with extreme indifference.

Once Bellatrix had spent the entire period lecturing about non-verbal spells and their uses in dueling, she dismissed the class. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws alike quickly streamed out of the classroom, most hurrying to lunch or their next class. No one liked to linger in the DADA classroom once class was over, since it was practically an invitation for Bellatrix to bully whoever was left. 

Suddenly she was left alone in the classroom with a completely disinterested Bellatrix. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Hermione cautiously moved from her seat towards the back of the room up to the front where the dark witch was rifling through papers haphazardly. From this close, Hermione could practically smell the sticky sweet perfume that Bellatrix wore, and it was making her dizzy.

Hermione cleared her throat gently before cautiously questioning, “You wanted to see me, Professor Black?”

Bellatrix’s eyes shot up, taking in Hermione’s uncomfortable stance before grinning wolfishly. As though she didn’t mean to be so obvious with her expression, a cool mask slipped over her face after a moment. 

“Yes, Granger. As much as I enjoy seeing the Weasel boy with that stupid expression on his face, you and I both know that verbally berating a student is not allowed.”

Bellatrix laid her papers down onto her desk and slowly walked over to the other side so that she could perch herself on the edge of the desk, just a few feet away from Hermione, who was shifting on the balls of her feet nervously. 

The dark witch cocked her head slightly and grinned before saying, “And it’s certainly not something that the Head Girl should be doing.”

Hermione knew that Bellatrix was purposely toying with her, trying to push her buttons, but it was definitely working. A deep pulse of arousal shot to her core from the feeling of being chastised like this. The Gryffindor turned her eyes to the floor and muttered an apology, feeling a small blush creep over her cheeks. 

The dark witch only huffed slightly in response. “Yes, well, you’ll have detention with me tonight. 11 o’clock. Don’t be late, pet,” Bellatrix sniffed. 

Hermione couldn’t trust her voice right now. She knew that if she tried to say anything else, it would come out breathy and pathetic and it would probably only work to make her more embarrassed and more aroused. There was a bit of relief knowing that whatever Bellatrix had planned was going to come to fruition soon, but that was accompanied by a sort of nervousness.

So Hermione just mumbled, “Yes, Professor,” before quickly scurrying out of the classroom, certain that she could feel the heavy weight of Bellatrix’s eyes on her retreating form. Once around the corner and surely out of Bellatrix’s earshot, Hermione pressed her back against the smooth stone of the corridor and let out the large breath she had been holding.

 _Tonight_. 

——

Hermione was noticeably frazzled when she went to lunch after being held after class, but quickly brushed off her friends’ concerns by reminding them that Bellatrix could make most seventh years soil themselves with one look. Everyone at the table then shifted their attention to Ron, whose ears were bright red in embarrassment, and started reminiscing about how he had done the very same thing their third year. No one mentioned Hermione’s jittery nature after that.

By the time that night had fallen, Hermione was peacefully curled up with a textbook, eagerly taking notes to try and calm her nerves. She had successfully distracted herself with schoolwork for most of the night, but being ahead in her classes meant that Hermione ran out of things to do to pass the time. Eventually, she just sat in one of the oversized chairs in the Gryffindor common room and counted the minutes going by. 

At around 10 o’clock, most of the students began to filter out of the common room to go up to their dorms, eventually leaving Hermione and a few other sixth and seventh years spread out sparsely throughout the common room, engrossed in their own tasks. She knew this would be the best time to leave. 

Hermione quickly returned her textbook and accompanying notes to her satchel and scurried to the stairs that led to the girls’ dormitory. She climbed up and up, past the seventh year dormitories and to her private room, courtesy of her Head Girl status, and quickly deposited her bag and began to fuss over her appearance. Surely, Bellatrix couldn’t expect her to be naked under her cloak? No, that seemed too risky, even for the lusty Slytherin.

She decided to change into a comfortable pair of jeans and a simple burgundy shirt. Something not particularly suspicious if she was to get caught on the way to Bellatrix’s quarters, but also something that looked cohesive. Hermione prayed that Bellatrix would like it.

Under the guise of completing her nightly rounds around the castle, she quickly slipped out of the tower with little fuss from her fellow lions. As quickly and as quietly as she could, Hermione just about ran towards the dungeons on the other side of the castle where the Slytherins all lived, including their Head of House. 

Her brisk walk was uneventful, and minus having to dodge a cleaning house elf or two, the castle was empty. Hermione silently thanked Merlin that she didn’t really encounter anyone, for she was already starting to revert into a submissive headspace in anticipation. 

When she arrived outside Bellatrix’s door, it was still quarter to eleven, so Hermione quickly cast a disillusionment charm on herself and hid in a dark corner, not wanting to be seen. The long minutes were spent in her thoughts, playing through dozens of different scenarios of how it would go. More than anything a he hoped that Bellatrix would be excited to see her too, and would continue to teach her as she promised.

At exactly eleven o’clock Hermione firmly knocked twice on the huge oaken door that was the entrance to Bellatrix’s quarters. The door swung open almost immediately, and the young witch felt paralyzed by the sight of Bellatrix in a heavy cloak and a black slip, obviously intended for sleeping, and which did not do a good job of covering anything. 

The dark witch smirked when she saw her, and then suddenly grabbed Hermione by the collar of her robes, hauling her across the threshold of the room without giving the girl a chance to even greet her properly. 

Before she had any time to look at Bellatrix’s chambers, she was roughly pushed up against the door as it clicked shut behind her. When she saw the glinting dangerous look in the Professor’s eyes, her knees immediately felt weak. Bellatrix only smiled, a wolfish, predatory smile, that made her stomach clench in anticipation. Just like the night at the club, Bellatrix had pinned Hermione, escape impossible, with a strong forearm across her chest. The dark witch could physically feel every shallow breath that Hermione took. 

“Miss me?” She asked in that mocking childish tone. 

Hermione tried not to seem too eager as she answered, pausing for just barely a moment before she tumbled out, “Yes, o-of course.”

Bellatrix’s eyes flashed in warning, and she quickly shifted her forearm so that it was just about pressing on Hermione’s neck, the threat of choking ever present and nearby. Her free hand came up to firmly grip her chin, forcing complete eye contact. Bellatrix had completely boxed her in with her tall frame, her black Professor’s robes making her look like a dark spirit as she loomed precariously over Hermione. 

“Yes, _what_?” Bellatrix’s tone was tightly controlled, but obviously impatient and high strung. 

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had, uh, started yet, I-“ Hermione stuttered nervously, trying to back pedal from her mistake, only to be cut off.

Bellatrix pressed her arm firmly so she was basically pushing the air out of Hermione’s chest just slightly, and brought her face closer to the Gryffindor’s. 

“When you and I are alone, you will remember your place. Am I understood?”

There was no room for argument in Bellatrix’s words if her dark tone was anything to go by, but Hermione wouldn’t dare defy her, only wanting to salvage whatever mess she had gotten herself into. 

“Yes!” She said almost immediately, “yes, Mistress, I’m sorry.”

Hermione momentarily glanced down nervously at their two bodies nearly pressed together, and they were so close she could feel the heat and waves of arrogance waft off the older witch. _My Mistress_. She needed to completely get herself in the right headspace to be the best submissive she could be, since she did not intend for Bellatrix to regret claiming her. She became determined once again to fix her mistake.

Not daring to touch the other woman without permission, Hermione instead relaxed a bit into her firm grasp and into the slight discomfort that came with it, hoping that Bellatrix would see it for the affection that it was. Hermione looked deep into her Mistress’s dark eyes, respectfully averting her eyes for a moment before murmuring, “I really did miss you, Mistress.”

As confusing and unclear as she was in class, Bellatrix was surprisingly obvious when she played like this. Her face immediately softened into a kinder expression, obviously pleased. Still, she smiled deviously and brought her mouth to the edge of Hermione’s ear, her steady breath billowing over it, not one to give up an opportunity to tease Hermione.

“How much?”

In any other situation, Hermione would have risen to the obvious challenge in Bellatrix’s voice, but now, all she wanted to do was bare her neck in submission and show the Professor how desperately she had been looking forward to this. 

She paused for a moment too long, so Bellatrix took the time to lean down and nip at Hermione’s tan neck two times in quick succession, earning a yelp from the girl. “Hm?” She whispered teasingly. Bellatrix was obviously wanting Hermione to use her words, something that she usually never struggled with, except in this situation.

“I, uh, I couldn’t stop thinking of you... I touched myself because of you, Mistress,” she admitted haltingly, feeling both embarrassed and frantic with lust. Once she fumbled her words out, a hot blush started to blossom in her cheeks. 

Bellatrix reeled back to look Hermione in the eyes before a positively devious and maniacal grin came across her elegant features. “And who said you could do that?”

Hermione’s face fell immediately. _What?_ Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she cautiously tried, “I-I didn’t know I, uh, couldn’t, I-“

She was cut off when Bellatrix’s deceptively soft hand gripped her chin, so fiercely she was sure it would mark, effectively silencing Hermione, who couldn’t take her eyes off of her Mistress’s wicked black eyes. She had almost certainly done something wrong. A jolt of fear shot through her, almost immediately followed by a larger jolt of arousal. Bellatrix was much more cold than she was during their last interaction, but for some reason that only added to the mounting wetness between her legs.

“What part of being _mine_ did you misunderstand?” Bellatrix asked dangerously, cocking her head like she was a questioning toddler. Hermione wanted to try and respond and stutter out an apology, but the dark witch barreled on. Poking a sharp nail directly into her chest, Bellatrix deceptively purred out, “I own you. That means I own your body. That means I own your orgasms. Was that not _clear_ , Muddy?”

Clearly her Mistress was upset with her for breaking some sort of implied rule that she didn’t totally know about. Still, once this became clear, Hermione chastised herself internally. She probably shouldn’t have gone and masturbated to the thought of Bellatrix, but it was something that she did almost out of habit to curb her overflowing level of attraction to the Professor. Nonetheless, she knew she had to prostrate herself in order to have even a chance at forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I-“ but she was almost immediately cut off again. Bellatrix seemed to be getting almost frustrated now.

“You are my property now and as such will behave. Did I not say so in my letter?” 

Hermione felt her stomach drop. She had said that in her letter, it was literally the only other thing written on the scroll besides the day they would be meeting. Bellatrix was practically glaring now, waiting for a response with a cold look on her face. Hermione knew that she could do nothing but accept that she had done something wrong. Bite the bullet, so to speak.

“Yes, Mistress, you did,” Hermione muttered, not daring to break the intense eye contact that they held. The realization that she had done something wrong was beginning to sink like a heavy stone in her stomach, and she squirmed slightly under Bellatrix’s oppressive touch. “I’m sorry.”

This didn’t seem to placate the dark witch enough, though. Instead, Bellatrix stepped back from Hermione completely, leaving the girl to slump backwards slightly onto the door from the unexpected movement. She stood tall in front of Hermione, her chin raised in pride, confidence and arrogance exuding from her pores. 

“You won’t have to be sorry for much longer. I have a way to help teach my little Mudpuppy the rules.” Bellatrix motioned to her left where Hermione noticed a small, ornate desk was placed in the corner of the room. “Take off your pants and bend over the desk for me.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in response. _Is Bellatrix going to spank me?_ The mere thought sent a shiver through the young witch, some sort of mixture of arousal and instinctual fear. With Bellatrix standing impatiently in front of her though, Hermione didn’t have the time to put more thought into her actions and their repercussions and instead just did what she was told to do.

With shaky hands, Hermione unbuttoned her jeans and began to slide them off her legs before she could overthink it. One look at Bellatrix’s hungry eyes told her to also take off her knickers, which were by now, practically soaked through. She stepped out of her clothes, now just in her simple short sleeve shirt and bra, and felt wonderfully, incredibly exposed as the air hit her damp core. Hermione looked down shyly for a moment before slowly walking over to the desk. 

Facing the desk, Hermione turned her head around with an unspoken question on her face, obviously unsure. Bellatrix was still standing behind her, except now openly leering at the newly exposed flesh with a dark look in her eyes. Thankfully, the dark witch chose to help her and give some more directions.

“Legs shoulder width apart, and stick your arse out high. I want to see you,” Bellatrix commanded. Hermione had no choice but to comply, but also knew that deep inside she ached to obey. So she spread her legs further apart and carefully laid herself atop the dark desk and pressed her cheek against it, shifting nervously after a moment. She was positive that from this angle, Bellatrix could see how slick her folds had become, and another drop of arousal accumulated with the thought.

Hermione jolted at the feeling of a cold hand on the small of her back, but after a small shushing sounded from behind her, relaxed slightly. She nearly felt trapped between the hard surface of the desk and the heavy presence of Bellatrix’s hand. Almost sensing Hermione’s trepidation, Bellatrix began to soothingly run her hand across the soft skin, and the young witch let out a comforted sigh. 

“You look lovely bent over like this, pet,” Bellatrix murmured darkly, arousal dripping off every word. She began to slowly trace the pads of her fingers low across the Gryffindor’s back, dipping lower and lower until she settled a firm hand upon a supple cheek. 

Hermione made a low whining sound in the back of her throat and angled herself up more before dutifully responding, “Thank you, Mistress.” The simple praise made the brunette feel exponentially more comfortable and less nervous, and a deep affection for Bellatrix bloomed in her chest.

The soft touch was quickly revoked however. Hermione heard the _clack_ of Bellatrix’s heels as she stepped back, seemingly admiring the view of her awaiting upturned arse. The pause made anxiety bubble up in the pit of her stomach, but she forced the feeling down, instead trying to focus on the heavy feeling of her Mistress’s eyes as she lurked behind her. 

“Since I apparently didn’t make it clear last time, I want you to know with absolute certainty that you are _not_ allowed to touch yourself without my permission. That is the case even if I don’t see you. Am I clear?” Bellatrix asserted from behind her. 

Hermione immediately jumped to respond, “Yes, Mistress,” and after a moment's pause continued in her apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to misbehave.”

This only caused Bellatrix to chuckle. She stepped forward, placing a pale hand upon the sweet, unmarked flesh that was Hermione’s arse, causing the girl to jerk minutely in surprise. “You don’t need to be sorry. You need to learn.”

The brunette’s breathing was borderline erratic now. The feeling of being so wholly exposed without the ability to see and anticipate what was coming was intoxicating in a terrifying way, and caused more wetness to pool in between her thighs. 

Bellatrix began speaking in a cold, matter-of-fact way, “I’m going to punish you, pet. Then you’ll learn and behave better in the future so I won’t have to do this again.” 

Suddenly, Bellatrix took a single finger and dragged it down through Hermione’s wet awaiting slit, immediately causing the girl to press backwards into the touch. The small touch was enough to make Hermione nearly beg for the dark witch to continue. 

“15 spanks for each cheek. You will count them.” Bellatrix said.

Hermione just barely had enough time for her core to clench in anticipation before a surprisingly firm hand came down swiftly on her arse. She jumped slightly, letting out a small whine in response to the pain starting to blossom. It was a wholly new sensation, but one that only worked to make the young witch more wet. 

“One, Mistress,” she groaned.

Again, Bellatrix’s hand quickly came down on her arse, in the same exact place, but with slightly more force. Hermione let out a startled yelp at this, not fully prepared for the flash of pain that came with the second hit. _Merlin._

“T-two, Mistress.”

Behind her, Bellatrix’s eyes were glued to her every twitch, judging every movement, leering at Hermione’s wet pussy and reddening arse. She was enjoying this more than she’d readily admit. 

By the sixth spank, Hermione was shifting slightly in anticipation and pain, causing Bellatrix to snarl, “Stay still, Muddy.”

Immediately Hermione stiffened, trying to focus more on her instructions than the hits that were becoming more and more forceful. She got a small caress on the small of her back from Bellatrix in consolidation, but only a moment later the hand was instead hitting her again. The hits only continued in speed and ferocity.

After the fifteenth spank, the brunette was unsteady on her legs, gripping tightly to the desk beneath her and reveling in the cool wood beneath her face. It was then she realized that she had gotten even more wet during this punishment.

 _Merlin, this_ hurts. 

A thoughtful hum sounded from behind Hermione. No more than a few moments passed before Bellatrix told her, “Good. Next cheek,” and began her onslaught all over again. 

Starting on untouched flesh made it easy at first, but the dark witch was mercilessly firm and consistent in raining blows down on Hermione’s arse. She was constantly yelping in pain after every hit before crying out the count in a shaky voice. After the tenth hit, tears began to prick in her eyes and something deep within her heart snapped and she released a low, whining moan. The hot pain began to turn into something more euphoric, something that made Hermione’s core pulse around nothing. The last few hits were pain intricately mixed with pleasure that only worked to make her groan more.

“Fifteen! Fifteen, Mistress,” Hermione panted out at last. She had slumped completely onto the desk, her sweaty body pressed completely up against the relief of the cold wood. Hermione wasn’t sure what was more intense; the residual sting of pain blossoming across her flesh, or the deep ache of arousal within her that set her skin on fire with need. 

Bellatrix let her lay there for a moment to catch her breath and hungrily eyed the light red marks that were littered across Hermione’s arse. She swept her hand gently across one cheek, gently cupping it and murmuring, “Good girl.”

Hermione let out a heavy sigh at this. The words of praise seemed to sink deep within her bones, filling her with a warm, accomplished feeling. After another moment, Bellatrix roughly grabbed Hermione by the hips, hauling her upwards and quickly twisting her around so that the backs of her knees were now pressed against the desk. Hermione’s face was flushed with arousal and anticipation, and as she looked into her Mistress’s dark eyes, felt another pulse of arousal.The dark witch moved forward and pinned Hermione against the desk, their bodies flush against each other.

“Did you learn your lesson?” Bellatrix asked slowly, obviously taking pleasure in her teasing question. There was a dark glint in her onyx eyes that made Hermione feel like prey being toyed with before dinner. 

“Yes! Yes, I did, Mistress, I’m sorry,” the brunette quickly replied.

Surprisingly, Bellatrix leaned down to gently coo in her ear, “Good, that’s a good girl.” Hermione whined at the praise, and took a chance to lightly wrap her hands around her Mistress’s curvy waist and lean against her. This was seemingly the right move, because Bellatrix let out a low rumble of pleasure from deep within her chest at the action, and wrapped her own arms around Hermione and pulled her into a hug. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore.”

Hermione gladly reveled in the feeling of being held and sunk into the dark witch’s embrace readily. She had misbehaved yes, but she had taken her punishment well and without complaint. Bellatrix moved her arm so that she could lightly graze her nails across the sensitive flesh of Hermione’s arse, causing the girl to jolt slightly in her embrace.

“You look wonderful bent over, pet,” Bellatrix purred. She pulled back slightly so she could look into the younger girl’s eyes and saw a hazy, lust filled gaze look back at her. 

“Th-thank you, Mistress,” Hermione shakily replied. 

“I want you to kneel in front of the couch,” the dark witch said, suddenly pulling away from the Gryffindor completely before casually adding, “and take the shirt off.”

Hermione felt cold when Bellatrix stepped away from her, and immediately craved the warmth that her presence brought, but the Professor had already walked over to the small sitting area and sat down on an oversized loveseat. Apparently, Bellatrix enjoyed keeping her on her toes, never letting her fully acclimate to one thing before going and changing things up. It was both thrilling and terrifying. 

Taking a deep breath, she strode forward across the room until she was directly in front of Bellatrix and slowly sunk to her knees, tilting her head up slightly. Bellatrix sat on the gaudy couch like it was a throne and she was a ruler looking down at her kingdom from atop it. The look in her eyes made Hermione even more wet.

“Straighten your back. I expect proper posture, pet,” Bellatrix said from above her, and immediately she corrected her posture and flushed embarrassedly. “Better.”

Bellatrix looked down at the earnest face on the young girl at her feet and softened her own expression. The dark witch reached out her hand to softly place it upon Hermione’s cheek. “You did well.”

Hermione sunk into Bellatrix’s touch immediately, closing her eyes to soak in the feeling. Her arse still ached, but the feeling of praise far outweighed the pain. Bellatrix began to soothingly run her thumb over Hermione’s freckled cheeks and the Gryffindor could’ve cried at the soft reassurance.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she began, “f-for teaching me.”

Bellatrix hummed appreciatively before smiling, “Glady, pet. Next time I see you, though, I expect that you’ll be spending more time on your back than bent over.”

Hermione couldn’t help but blush at the lewd promise, and shifted slightly on her knees as her core clenched in arousal. “When will I see you next?”

The dark witch pondered for a moment, still caressing Hermione’s cheek before responding, “Are you busy Sunday night?”

“No, no, I’d love to come back to see you then,” she eagerly replied, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice at the thought of seeing her Mistress again. Bellatrix only chuckled at this. 

“Good. Same time, then.” She moved her hand to slip her fingers into Hermione’s tousled curls. “How are you feeling?”

Hermione hummed in appreciation at the gentle sensation, replying, “Good, Mistress.”

“Now you’ll remember who you belong to, hm?”

The Gryffindor only nodded in agreement, eyes wide and glassy, leaning heavily against Bellatrix’s touch. She wasn’t surprised that she enjoyed kneeling like this.

Many more moments passed like that in comfortable silence as Hermione knelt peacefully and Bellatrix enjoyed looking at her. Eventually, Bellatrix broke the silence, “You should go back to your dorm, it’s getting late.”

In her brain, Hermione knew she was right, but her incessant wetness between her thighs meant she wanted nothing more than to stay longer and feel Bellatrix’s touch where she needed it most.

Seemingly reading her mind, Bellatrix chuckled lightly and said, “This is a punishment, it’s expected that you’ll...go to bed without dinner, so to speak.” The smile that followed was devious, “But I’ll see you soon, Muddy.” 

Hermione licked her lips before huffing just slightly in disappointment. The wetness between her thighs had gotten almost uncomfortable at this point. “Of course, Mistress.”

Bellatrix suddenly gripped her hair roughly to drag Hermione up so they were face to face and she could see the amused look in the dark witch’s face. “Don’t be pouty,” she said, before firmly kissing Hermione. It worked effectively to stop any possible protests, and she instead leaned into the kiss. Bellatrix kissed her with more ferocity and passion than anyone had before. When she pulled away, Hermione was breathing heavily and looked dazed. 

Bellatrix leaned back and jutted her chin out to point at the pile of Hermione’s clothes. Slowly, the girl began to stand up on shaky legs and carefully put her clothes back on. Putting her damp underwear back on made a heavily blush come across her cheeks. 

Standing next to the door, Bellatrix looked almost like a shadow in the low light. Her smirk spoke of a deeply ingrained arrogance, and it only worked to make Hermione blush more. She stood unsteadily in front of the dark witch for a moment before deciding to reach up on her tiptoes to gently kiss Bellatrix’s cheek. Stepping back, she murmured, “Thank you again, Mistress.”

Bellatrix looked slightly stunned at the soft display, momentarily frozen in surprise. Quickly, she then reached forward to bring Hermione closer for a possessive kiss, not daring to repay the gentle action with proper tenderness. 

Pulling back to look into Hermione’s warm brown eyes, Bellatrix smirked once again. “Go. Behave yourself until I see you next.”

With one more chaste kiss, Bellatrix sent Hermione off into the castle on unsteady legs. Truly, Bellatrix was going to keep her on her toes. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the patience as a I lost a bit of inspiration and with finals coming and going. Expect sporadic updates, but know this fic is always on my mind and I am open to suggestions

It seemed that Hermione had truly underestimated the impact of Bellatrix’s rule. Immediately once she barricaded herself in her single dorm after their time together, she felt the strong urge to shove her hands down her pants to relieve the aching within her. But her Mistress’s rule forbade it, and Hermione certainly wasn’t going to disappoint her twice in such a short span of time. Still, that didn’t make going to bed with an incessant wetness between her thighs and a deep ache within her core any easier. 

The rest of the school week was altogether uneventful, except for the incessant undertone of arousal that plagued Hermione. It was hard not to get any sort of relief after seeing Bellatrix, especially when she was used to doing so on a regular basis. Nonetheless, she was getting better at being less noticeably distracted when her thoughts drifted back to the dark witch, and was no longer being accused of acting distant or distracted. 

Saturday brought little reprieve. It was a lovely spring day out, but Hermione, along with many other seventh years, was cooped up in the library studying for her upcoming N.E.W.T.s. As usual, she was the first in the library, coming immediately after breakfast that morning to brush up on her History of Magic and Ancient Runes notes. Nearing noon, the seats around her were starting to fill with others also frantically studying. Eventually, Harry and Neville joined her in the secluded corner she frequented, and together they studied the theory behind a particularly difficult potion that was sure to be on their exams. 

After quickly popping to the great hall to eat a small late lunch, Hermione returned to her spot in the library, soon rejoined by Harry and Neville. At least an hour had passed before Ron finally decided to join them in studying, seeming decidedly unfocused and unmotivated, per usual. Not long after, he turned to Hermione.

“‘Mione, is there any way you made some sort of study guide for the Potions exam? I don’t even bloody well know where to start,” Ron huffed out, turning his sad blue eyes towards Hermione.

Not even bothering to set down her quill, she replied, “Then study for everything, Ron.”

The redhead only huffed louder, pouting his lower lip like he had done for years. Shuffling in his seat, he scooted closer to her to peer over her shoulder. “You’re not even studying!” he cried out, “you’re writing a letter.”

At this, Hermione set down her quill and rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, responding to a letter takes less than a half hour, so since I’ve been in the library for the entire day, I think that more than makes up for it.”

“Well when you’re done can you help me?” Ron asked again. Hermione sighed minutely; she knew that Ron felt like he needed to stand out within his big family, and aimed high for a career as an Auror, and needed to pass his exams as much as anyone. 

After a moment she replied, “Okay, fine, Ron. Potions _again_?”

Harry chuckled at Ron’s expense from Hermione’s obviously exasperated tone; Ron was notoriously poor at Potions, something they often teased him about. The boy blushed and sheepishly nodded his head. 

It wasn’t five minutes later before Ron was again looking over Hermione’s shoulder at what she was writing. “Who’re you writing, ‘Mione?”

“Viktor, he wrote me yesterday morning and I’ve yet to respond,” she said politely, starting to become annoyed at his increasingly frequent intrusions. 

Ron sat back with a dumbfounded look on his reddening face, “Krum? Didn’t I tell him to bugger off after fourth year?” 

Hermione could only roll her eyes at his childish response. When Viktor visited Hogwarts in their fourth year to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, he had pursued Hermione romantically. They went together to the Yule Ball, in fact, something that infuriated Ron and confounded Harry. While Hermione had liked the soft spoken boy, she realized it wasn’t in a romantic way, and so she parted with Viktor as friends. Occasionally, they would exchange letters back and forth. She eventually found a good friend in Viktor, appreciating his kind, inquisitive manner that hid behind his famous personality. But she hadn’t told Ron or Harry any of that, she had no reason to since it never come up before. And, well, Hermione wanted to avoid the likely situation where Ron would get mad.

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “Viktor and I are still friends, we write to each other occasionally.”

“What?” Ron roared. “He was, you know, trying to _get_ with you, ‘Mione!”

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes at his antics. He obviously still held some jealousy or possessiveness from when they briefly dated, even though Hermione thought they parted amicably as friends. That was over two years ago, and something that hadn’t really been brought up since. They worked better as friends, they both agreed, and had since both been romantically involved with other people. But it seemed Ron’s hard-headedness made it so that he didn’t truly understand that she had zero interest in him. Merlin, she’d even talked about her proclivities towards women with Ron and Harry before! 

“We’re _friends_ , Ron,” she said firmly, not wanting him to misinterpret anything, but also wanting him to understand the finality of her words. 

“How can you be friends with someone who tried to shag you like that?” Ron asked furiously, obviously going on some sort of tirade and not listening to Hermione’s words at all. There had been many situations in the past where Ron was unable to drop a point of issue just for the sake of an argument, and she hoped this wasn’t one of those times. 

“I don’t know Ron, how am I still friends with _you_ after fifth year?” Hermione snapped angrily. She didn’t have the time or patience for Ron’s overprotective and jealous nature anymore, she just wanted to finish the letter to Viktor and continue studying. 

Ron looked taken aback for a few moments before screeching, “That’s different! Krum hasn’t been your best mate for the past seven years.”

“Please, Ronald, I don’t have time for this!” Hermione bit out. 

“Well, what do we have here? A lover’s quarrel?” Came a dark voice from her right. Immediately, everyone’s attention shifted to the dark witch leaning precariously on a nearby bookshelf, a wicked grin on her pale features. 

Hermione’s core clenched painfully at the mere sight of Bellatrix, just as she had every other time she saw the woman over the past few days. Even in a simple black Professor’s robe, the dark witch still managed to be the most eye catching thing in the room. The thought of being caught in the middle of a personal argument by any Professor was wildly embarrassing, but getting caught by _this_ Professor was mortifying. 

“P-Professor Black, we were just-” Hermione began, trying to explain, but was quickly cut off. 

“Yelling in the library? I’d expect someone who frequents it so often would know that there is no yelling allowed,” Bellatrix said haughtily, striding forward to stand directly in front of the pack of Gryffindors. 

Hermione blushed deeply. She was completely correct, and it caused her embarrassment to further increase. None of her friends said anything for a few long moments, unable to speak under their Professor’s scrutinizing and accusing stare. After a pause and a loud gulp, Ron dared to try, “S-Sorry, Professor.”

Bellatrix was obviously not satisfied with his apology and rolled her eyes before snapping her finger and pointing directly at Hermione. “You, Granger. Come with me,” she spat, “I’ll leave the rest of you to Madam Pince.”

The demand was firm, unable to be denied by anyone, much less Hermione, so the girl awkwardly clambered to her feet after a moment's hesitation. She turned her head to see Ron’s apologetic face and Harry and Neville’s startled expressions. Her stomach coiled in both excitement and dread as her Professor twisted sharply on her heel and walked into the deep recesses of the library. She was helpless to do anything but follow. 

Bellatrix led her to the deepest part of the library, right near the restricted section that so few frequented, and Hermione suddenly realized that the woman was blocking the only way out from here. The dark witch stood for a few more moments, peering amusedly at Hermione’s bashful expression and obvious discomfort. When she still didn’t speak, Hermione began to get anxious. Things were still so tentative with the Professor, and she wasn’t sure if the woman was genuinely upset, or playing some sort of game with her.

“I’m so-sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean to get so loud, Ron j-just got riled up and-”

“Yes, pet, I could tell,” Bellatrix chuckled, her demeanor so similar to the one she used in class that Hermione was still unsure if the woman was toying with her. “I could hear him quite clearly yelling about that Bulgarian boy from a few years back. Krum, was it?” 

Hermione’s pulse began to race at the dangerous look on her Professor’s face. Her eyebrow was precariously raised, a suspicious expression on her sharp features. Bellatrix stepped forward several paces before settling a few feet from Hermione, leaning heavily on one leg, gesturing loosely with a hand. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” she taunted snidely. 

“No, I-I just was apologizing, is all,” Hermione muttered, wringing her hands nervously. She was trying to appease the dark witch, but she only frowned at the Gryffindor’s words. Bellatrix began to prowl slowly towards Hermione, looking more displeased by the second.

“I thought you and the Weasel were no longer an item. Why the lovers’ quarrel over the Bulgarian?” Bellatrix asked accusingly. 

_Oh no._ Did Bellatrix think that she had feelings towards either men? Hermione could see why she could think that, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. But Bellatrix only took Hermione’s momentary pause as a confirmation, and she snorted haughtily, making the girl scramble to fix the situation.

“No, we-we _aren’t_ , this is just a misunderstanding, Professor, I swear,” she said exasperatedly, hoping the dark witch would recognize her honesty. 

Bellatrix moved until she was just a few inches from Hermione, staring down the cowering girl. A tense moment passed where the brunette bit her lip anxiously, willing the Professor to listen to her. Mercifully, Bellatrix’s face softened fractionally, but her eyes were still cold and distant. 

“You would do well to remember who you belong to, girl,” Bellatrix spat out angrily, tone teetering on the edge of truly dangerous. Her posture had grown stiff and defensive, and Hermione began to feel incredibly foolish about the whole misinterpretation. The woman was about to turn back around when Hermione shot her arm out to grasp desperately at the older witch’s robes. 

“P-please,” she croaked out, “ _Mistress_.”

This caught the dark witch’s attention. She paused momentarily, twitching up a sharp eyebrow expectantly, but otherwise had a terribly neutral expression on her face. 

Hermione wanted to sink to her knees and beg for the opportunity to explain herself and make sure Bellatrix knows that she _does_ know who she belongs to, but such a thing even in the dark corners of the library was dangerous beyond belief. Hermione settled to fumble momentarily and grabbed Bellatrix’s hand desperately, holding it tight in her shaking hand. Hermione now had the dark witch’s full attention, and heat began to pool between her legs from the intense gaze automatically. She shrank herself unconsciously, trying to seem as demure and submissive as possible to try and settle the dark witch’s anger. 

“I am just friends with both of them. It’s nothing like you think,” Hermione said carefully, trying to appease Bellatrix’s notorious temper, and her apparent possessiveness.

The Professor took another curious step towards her, an unreadable expression on her face. Hermione unknowingly held her breath as Bellatrix waited a few long moments before the witch exhaled and began to reply.

“Then who do you belong to?” Bellatrix asked angrily. The question was a test, the brunette knew, and not one she would fail. 

“To _you_ ,” Hermione replied without hesitation, looking up into onyx eyes with honesty and desperation. Truly, this is nothing like how she imagined her afternoon would go, but her ever present desire to please ran rampant through her veins, emboldening her. “I know my place.”

The fire died down in Bellatrix’s eyes at the response, but there was still a dangerous flicker deep within her stony gaze. Hermione knew she wasn’t fully convinced or appeased, so she dared to take a step forward so that she was almost flush against Bellatrix’s warm body and carefully stood on the tips of her toes to place a soft kiss at the bottom of a sharp jawline. When Bellatrix hummed softly in pleasure, Hermione placed a shaky hand on the woman’s shoulder to steady herself and gently, reverently, rubbed the tip of her nose against the same spot. It was an apology, a confirmation that the trust that Bellatrix had given her was not misplaced. It was all Hermione could do in the current situation. 

Bellatrix let her do this for a few moments, basking in the attention, before she cleared her throat loudly, causing the girl to jump away slightly until they were almost a respectable distance away from each other. When Hermione peered back up until Bellatrix’s eyes, she could see that the woman looked significantly more appeased than before. The corner of the dark witch’s lip was even twitched slightly upwards. 

“Good. Tomorrow, then,” Bellatrix said, a cool, distant look on her face. Hermione was surprised that she was able to appease the dark witch, and even more surprised that she was able to salvage the poor situation. 

Hermione licked her lips before responding, “Tomorrow.”

Bellatrix nodded her head once before quickly turning on her heel to saunter out of the corner they were in, leaning the Gryffindor alone. Hermione paused for a moment, reveling in the remnants of a sharp, cinnamon smell that belonged to the woman’s perfume. She closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. Everything that occurred since Ron sat down had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that it was making her dizzy. Eventually, after a long while, she had recollected herself, opened her eyes, and began to walk back to where she’d been sitting. 

Finding her reading corner empty of her friends was unexpected, but Hermione just rationalized it to Pince chasing them off. After a moment, Hermione began to collect her things, deciding to retreat to her private dorm to have some time to herself before dinner. As quickly as she could without raising suspicion, she trotted back to the Gryffindor tower. When she didn’t find any of the boys there, she quickly climbed the spiral stairs to the girls’ dorms.

Finally secluded in her own room, the brunette laid on her bed, and took a moment for herself. Seeing Bellatrix was too unexpected, and even though the woman seemed appeased, Hermione was unsure how this would affect their meeting tomorrow. She hated the mere thought of disappointing Bellatrix again. Just being around the dark witch had gotten Hermione to completely forget what homework she was working on and instead focus on the arousal that she had pushed down earlier. 

Hermione was consumed by thoughts and memories of Bellatrix for longer than she’d willingly admit. It was too easy to lose herself in the memories of how it felt to be touched by the older witch, how the confidence she exuded only served to make her more wet. Bellatrix was firm, but never unkind, and Hermione felt truly special when the woman’s eyes softened towards her in affection.

The dinner bell ringing brought Hermione out of her less than innocent reverie. It seemed she had spent nearly the last hour just caught up in her thoughts about Bellatrix and the fantasies she had around the woman. Trying to shake herself out of the headspace she’d gotten into, Hermione got up off her bed and started automatically getting herself presentable for dinner. She worked on autopilot, the familiarity of the actions comforting and grounding. As an anxious person, she had to learn to ground and calm herself with simple, everyday tasks as a way to cope discreetly. Soon, however, Hermione was looking decidedly less disheveled and started the trek down to dinner. 

Seeing all of her best friends chatting amicably at the Gryffindor table worked well to dig Hermione out of her thoughts of Bellatrix. She sat down between Ginny and Dean, and began to portion a plate full of a delicious looking pork roast and vegetables. She caught up with Ginny for a few minutes before Harry and Ron came stumbling in, seating themselves across from Hermione. 

Immediately Ron grabbed a bread roll and stuffed it in his mouth while loading his plate up as high as possible. Hermione was the only one disconcerted at Ron’s terrible manners, huffing to herself slightly. Only after eating ravenously for a few moments did Ron notice Hermione, and, with his mouth still full, called, “Oi!”

Before Hermione could scold him, Ginny reached over the table and smacked him furiously in the arm. 

“Dirty pig!” Ginny yelled, causing Ron’s cheeks to redden. “You’ve got no manners, honestly, Ron.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the siblings bickering. Ron quickly caught his bearings though, and refocused his attention on Hermione. “So, what did Black do to you?”

Hermione’s eyes immediately went wide and she flushed with embarrassment at the implication the phrase had. She fumbled, unable to think of a lie for a moment, before sputtering out, “Sh-she just gave me detention, is all. Um, tomorrow night.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly, hoping Ron would buy her excuse. Hermione had read that the best lies had kernels of truth in them, and saying that she had detention with Bellatrix the next night meant that she could leave the Gryffindor tower with little fuss. Thankfully, Ron just nodded, taking another massive bite of the variety of food now in front of him.

“Pince handed us off to Hagrid to help with weeding the greenhouse, but Neville volunteered to stay behind longer to finish the last bit,” Harry chirped helpfully. 

“Kept us late for dinner!” Ron added unhelpfully. 

Rolling her eyes, Ginny snarked out, “Merlin, I don’t know how you’re not as fat as Uncle Billius yet.”

At this, Hermione burst out laughing, quickly followed by everyone nearby except Ron. Hermione had met the famed Bilius Weasley a few years prior at Fleur and Bill’s wedding, and it was an understatement to say that the man was rotund, almost uncomfortably so. With the imagined picture of an old and fat Ron in her head, the brunette laughed raucously with her friends at his expense. Harry laughed loudest of all, almost choking on his pumpkin juice at Ginny’s outburst. 

For the first time in a long while, Hermione took a moment to truly bask in the company of her friends. The friends she sat next to and ate with every day would soon go off into the next phase of their lives, to probably do something where they wouldn’t see each other often. She cherished the fleeting moment, making a mental note to make sure she never lost touch with her closest friends.

——

Bellatrix was nowhere to be found during every mealtime on Sunday. It wasn’t necessarily weird, but something that Hermione took notice of, as she habitually looked for the woman. She was hoping to ground herself in the comfort that came with just gazing at the dark witch, but wasn’t able to do so. Hermione was thinking about Bellatrix for the majority of the day, unable to achieve the deep level of focus needed for some subjects like Arithmancy, and instead spent the day doing busywork in the common room. Being surrounded by her rowdy housemates distracted her enough so that the day passed by fairly quickly. 

Eventually, Hermione found herself in a mostly deserted common room nearing eleven o’clock. She quickly went up to her dorm to change into something that, hopefully, Bellatrix would like. After deciding on a plaid skirt and a simple white long sleeve shirt, the brunette made her way back to the common room. At this point, Ron and Harry were still up, working on a Potions essay they’d put off until the last minute. But, thankfully, neither of the boys batted an eye as Hermione slipped out of the Gryffindor tower. 

Feeling more confident than the first time, Hermione quickly made her way to the depths of the dungeon where Bellatrix resided. Her stomach began tying itself up in knots in anticipation of what was to come the closer she got to the dungeons. However, standing in front of Bellatrix’s door, a soothing sense of calm overcame Hermione as she felt herself revert into a more demure headspace. At precisely eleven, Hermione firmly knocked on the dark witch’s door. 

The door swung open immediately, revealing the woman plaguing Hermione’s thoughts. Once again, the Professor was dressed in a black nightgown that left little to the imagination. Bellatrix’s eyes were sharp and focused, leering unabashedly. This time, however, she didn’t haul Hermione into the room, instead the dark witch took a step backwards and politely motioned for her to enter. 

Hermione ducked her head in deference and quickly shuffled forward into the Slytherin’s room, hearing the door _click_ shut behind her. She paused a few paces into the room, feeling a little disoriented without a command to follow. For whatever reason, following Bellatrix’s commands felt soothing, felt _right_. This was the only place in Hermione's life where she could give up control, and it was glorious to be at the mercy of the dark witch. 

“Strip, and kneel on the bed, eyes down,” Bellatrix said from somewhere in front of her. Hermione glanced up for a moment, only long enough to see the hunger in the dark witch’s eyes, and then began to take off her clothes without thinking. She moved with fluid efficiency, not trying to waste time in doubt or insecurity, and focused on the simple command and the excitement between her thighs.

The brunette left her clothes in a pile by the door and immediately felt the heavy gaze of Bellatrix looking at her bare skin. Bellatrix appreciated the tan, smooth skin of the girl in front of her for a moment, smirking. Hermione couldn’t help but pause and shiver in anticipation. The Professor had yet to even touch her, but she still felt the wetness between her thighs increase anyway. When Bellatrix crooked a sharp eyebrow upwards in question, Hermione hurried to follow her command. 

Trying not to focus on how the cold air of the dungeons made her nipples painfully erect, Hermione settled herself on the luxurious bed that was in the furthest corner from the door. She straightened her back and cast her eyes down, eager to show Bellatrix that she could behave well and be good for her. As soon as Hermione got situated on the bed, Bellatrix began loudly rummaging somewhere off to her right. 

Whatever the woman was looking for, it was taking a long time. Hermione knelt comfortably on the bed for what seemed like many minutes as the anticipation within her kept growing. She so desperately wanted to squirm in search of some friction and look up to see what the dark witch was doing, but the brunette knew she couldn’t disobey a command, didn’t want to. Still, the seeping wetness between her thighs was distracting, so distracting that Hermione didn’t notice the silence that eventually overcame the room.

“Look up,” Bellatrix said gruffly. 

Hermione’s head snapped up, eyes immediately searching for those of her Mistress. Bellatrix’s eyes shone with glee, seemingly pleased by having the Golden Girl as such a willing participant. The woman standing in front of her made a show of taking her time to properly ogle the Gryffindor in front of her, lips quirked up in a smug grin. Her eyes missed nothing, and immediately took notice of Hermione’s hard nipples. 

Without hesitation, Bellatrix reached a hand to firmly pinch Hermione’s left nipple, causing the girl to slightly jerk automatically in response. Hermione let out a shaky breath of arousal, but said nothing, only pushed her chest out further. With a devious smirk and a dangerous gleam in her eyes, Bellatrix switched to the other nipple and pinched twice as hard. The brunette couldn’t help but yelp at this, a comforting mix of pain and arousal hitting her all at once. The heat in her core was becoming overwhelming. 

“Good. I like to hear you, pet,” Bellatrix purred lowly. Hermione’s heart soared at the praise, however slight. She shifted slightly, making sure she had proper posture, wanting to earn as much praise as possible with good behavior. 

Hermione lowered her eyes in deference before responding, “Thank you, Mistress.”

Bellatrix let Hermione kneel with her eyes downcast for a few moments, relishing in the natural submission that came from the girl, before tilting her head up with a finger. Hermione was eager to make eye contact, looking up hopefully at Bellatrix’s stoic expression. 

“Did you behave yourself, Muddy?” 

Hermione paused for a moment before realizing what the woman meant, and dutifully answered, “Y-yes I did, Mistress.”

Bellatrix smirked at that, looking pleased. “Good. I’m glad to see you’ve learned from your past mistakes.”

Hermione smiled shyly in response, glad to hear the acknowledgment from someone she held in such high standing. Her hands itched to move from atop her thighs and reach out to grasp at the dark witch, to feel the warmth of Bellatrix on her skin. She shifted slightly, but otherwise kept still, waiting for the other woman. 

With no preamble, Bellatrix reached her hand down to quickly run her finger down the length of Hermione’s exposed wet slit. Hermione couldn’t help but lean into the light touch, keening slightly when Bellatrix’s finger left as quickly as it had come. The dark witch smiled wolfishly as she inspected the wetness she had gathered on her finger. The brunette blushed heavily, somehow feeling embarrassed and aroused at the same time from the gesture.

“Always the eager one, hm?” Bellatrix chuckled. Hermione would’ve thought the woman was amused if not for the dark, lusty look deep within her onyx eyes; It made a jolt of arousal shoot through Hermione, only working to make her more wet. Bellatrix looked pensive for a moment before she slowly raised her hand to hover directly in front of Hermione’s mouth. 

“Suck it clean,” Bellatrix commanded, raising a glistening finger insistently. Hermione barely hesitated before ducking her head to take a slim finger in her mouth. The brunette couldn’t help but release a small moan at being forced to taste herself. It was a more subdued taste than she expected, but still sharp and salty. Hermione lifted her gaze to look seductively at Bellatrix through her eyelashes. The woman’s pupils were blown, her eyes greedily watching every minute motion the girl did. Hermione took the digit deeper in her mouth until her lips wrapped around Bellatrix’s third knuckle. Her Mistress looked extremely pleased at her actions, and her heart swelled in pride. 

In one quick motion, Bellatrix withdrew her finger from Hermione’s willing mouth, pausing a moment to seemingly inspect it, before lowering her arm, satisfied.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Hermione said softly, looking up earnestly. For whatever reason, sucking Bellatrix’s fingers was an enjoyable task for the brunette. 

Bellatrix’s lips curled into a smug smile and said, “You’re welcome, pet.” In all honesty, the woman hadn’t been expecting the Gryffindor to behave so well and be so genuine about her eagerness to serve, but Hermione had been nothing less than a good girl. Her promise needed rewarding, something to cement a claim. “I’ve got a gift for you.”

Hermione was genuinely surprised at that. If anything, she was expecting the dark witch to be upset with her over their misunderstanding the day before. A gift was the last thing she expected. She tilted her head in question, eyebrows furrowing and eyes alight with confusion. 

“Well, a gift of sorts,” Bellatrix amended, a casual smile playing on her lips. Hermione only felt more confused at that, and a touch fearful. She hoped another punishment wasn’t in store. 

“I wanted to be clear about my expectations for you and for this...relationship of sorts that’s happening,” Bellatrix started. “I don’t take well to sharing what I consider mine. And I consider you my property, essentially.”

At this, the dark witch turned around and walked to a small table nearby that Hermione had just now noticed. After a moment, Bellatrix was facing her again, this time with a small wooden box in her hands. Hermione’s curiosity was immediately piqued at the sight, but her stomach was in knots. Was Bellatrix actually upset with her?

This time, Bellatrix sat carefully upon the large bed, just a few inches from Hermione’s kneeling form. “I spent most of the day looking for this. It’s a reminder of who you belong to. A binding arrangement of sorts.”

Hermione’s heart was pounding erratically at this point, her stomach full of anxiety. She didn’t want to interrupt, but couldn’t help but pitifully blurt out, “B-but I know who I belong to, I-”

“Stop talking,” Bellatrix sharply said, “Don't interrupt me, pet.”

Immediately Hermione cast her eyes downward, curling in on herself slightly. Too often Hermione’s incessant need to talk and argue had got her in trouble, and she hoped that Bellatrix wasn’t too upset with her outburst. 

Bellatrix quickly grabbed Hermione’s chin to bring the girl’s head up, saying, “Eyes up, this is important.”

With a touch of fear, Hermione made eye contact with her Mistress. Bellatrix's eyes were softer than she expected, and she slightly relaxed into the firm grip on her face and corrected her posture. 

“Better,” Bellatrix murmured, releasing her grip to let her hand fall on top of the mysterious wooden box. “Keep your eyes on me unless I say so, hm?”

Hermione scrambled to respond, “Of course, Mistress.” Bellatrix didn’t seem upset, and she didn’t want to do anything to change that. The dark witch relaxed fractionally at Hermione’s words, and took a breath in, trying to focus on how to properly phrase her next words. 

“A proper owned submissive should display their servitude proudly, in my opinion. Some see it as a formality, but I am a stickler for tradition,” Bellatrix smiled, pulling the box into her lap. “So I’ve gotten you a collar.”

Bellatrix snapped the box open to reveal a slim collar nestled inside. It couldn’t have been more than an inch tall, it was rather dainty looking almost, if not for the thickness of it. It seemed to be made of sturdy leather, but was dyed a soft shade of lilac, and had a clasp on the back to put it on and off. A solid metal D-ring was attached to the front of it. 

“It’s a symbol of my ownership, of your submission. I would expect you to never take it off, if you choose to accept it,” Bellatrix said softly, softer than Hermione had ever heard her speak. Hermione had quickly realized what the dark witch was trying to do once she saw the collar. It truly was a gift, a gift of ownership, of belonging. Tears began to prick at the corners of the brunette’s eyes. 

“You may wear a glamor Charm over it when necessary, like during classes, but I want you to wear it constantly.”

Hermione looked rapidly between Bellatrix’s earnest expression and the collar waiting in the opened box. It looked so pretty, so well made, that the brunette wanted to reach her hand out to grasp it. She looked up at Bellatrix with a questioning look in her eyes, asking for permission, before the woman smirked and nodded her head slightly. 

Hesitantly, she reached a hand out to pick up the collar. It was surprisingly heavy, and felt sturdy in her hands. Hermione ached to put it on. Bellatrix was watching the brunette’s every exploratory move like a hawk, looking extremely pleased at the reverence and awe the girl obviously felt. 

“The collar comes with responsibilities, however. I would expect dedication and commitment, and for you to be willing to continue being trained to become a good pet for me. This isn’t the sort of gift that is given lightly, girl, be mindful of that,” Bellatrix said, a clear warning in her voice.

Holding the collar gently in her hand, the Gryffindor couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. Picturing herself wearing the collar made Hermione shiver in anticipation and delight. There was so much promise hidden in the gift, in its implications. With determination, Hermione gripped the collar more firmly and tilted her head up to make eye contact with the dark witch watching her carefully. Bellatrix looked cautiously hopeful, but still full of pride, ever the regal woman, even when unsure.

“I’d love nothing more than to wear the collar for you, Mistress. Please,” Hermione said softly after a moment. Holding the collar in her palm, she stretched her arms out, and carefully said, “Could you put it on for me, please, Mistress?”

Bellatrix smiled brightly at the brunette’s words, almost visibly relaxing at the affirmation. “Absolutely, pet,” she practically purred. She took the proffered collar from Hermione’s unsteady hands and quickly unbuckled the latch to open the collar. “Come closer.”

Hermione awkwardly shifted forward until she was kneeling so close to Bellatrix that their legs touched. Even the small amount of physical contact was enough to send waves of warmth throughout the Gryffindor. She swallowed nervously, both excited and anxious, but mostly incredibly excited to be so graciously presented with an opportunity. Pulling a crooked wand from seemingly nowhere, Bellatrix flicked her wrist once and conjured a hair tie, which she handed to Hermione. With little hesitation, the brunette quickly took the piece of elastic and began to tie her hair up. 

With Hermione’s arms in the air tying a ponytail, Bellatrix again decided to firmly pinch one of her nipples, making the girl twitch in response. She let out a low whine, but finished her task momentarily and placed her hands palm down on her thighs once again. The dark witch smirked, humming in approval. The small noises and reactions from the girl always worked to arouse Bellatrix, mildly distracting her from the moment at hand. After a pause, Hermione nervously leaned forward to tilt her neck to the side, baring it. 

Bellatrix could easily see the way Hermione’s prominent neck vein pulsed heavily. In that moment, she decided to indulge her more primal whims. Suddenly the dark witch leaned forward to latch her mouth directly onto the pulsing vein. Greedily sucking the soft flesh into her mouth, Bellatrix could _feel_ the deep moan that Hermione released. Without permission, the Gryffindor’s hand darted forward to desperately grab Bellatrix’s free arm for stability, unable to keep herself from exposing her neck even more. The dark witch allowed the uninvited touch, secretly enjoying the responsiveness of the young witch beneath her. 

When Hermione felt the prick of Bellatrix’s teeth moments later, she just whimpered, “Please.”. Surely a large mark would be there tomorrow, judging by how roughly the dark witch was suckling on her sensitive skin, but the possessiveness of the act only made it feel all the more arousing. After a punctuated suck, Bellatrix let go of the young witch’s skin. 

Bellatrix leaned back to admire her work; the angry red mark blossoming on Hermione’s tan neck was alluring, but not as much as the way the girl’s eyes were glazed over. The dark witch smirked, “It seems I can’t help myself around you.” Hermione just squirmed and bared her neck pitifully, squeezing the firm arm beneath her fingers and wishing to feel the collar on her skin. 

Finally, _finally_ , Bellatrix brought the collar up and wrapped it around Hermione’s slim neck. Adjusting the collar, the dark witch quickly secured the latch and leaned back to take in the girl’s appearance. The soft purple color of the collar contrasted well with the Gryffindor’s tanned skin, and judging from the look, was a perfect fit. Hermione held her breath throughout the collaring, barely having enough control to reign in her excitement and not blurt out nervous babble. Only once she saw Bellatrix smile proudly did she let herself release the breath she had been holding.

“How does it feel?” The dark witch asked, trying to gauge the reaction of the obviously nervous girl. 

Hermione reached a hand up to settle gently on the gift she had been given. The leather beneath her fingers felt smooth to the touch, and the way the collar settled heavily on her neck was a comforting, reassuring presence. Every time Hermione took a breath, she could feel the slight pressure of the collar against her windpipe. The feeling was exhilarating. 

“It feels really nice,” Hermione said quietly, absently fingering the D-ring on the front of the collar. “I’ll always be thinking of you with this on.”

The dark witch smiled deviously, responding, “Good, a pet should always be thinking of their Master, and ways to serve.” At this, the younger girl smiled shyly, imagination quickly running wild at the short phrase. Hermione felt overcome with happiness at the realization that she was now an owned pet. Suddenly, the short distance between them was much too large, the small amount of skin contact wasn’t enough. 

“C-can I sit in your lap, Mistress?” Hermione asked shyly, yearning for the touch of the dark witch. Certainly the past few days without being able to find release was difficult, but more than anything, Hermione craved simple physical intimacy. “You can see how well the collar fits up close.”

Bellatrix chuckled at the girl’s unsubtle attempt to try to convince her, but the dark witch needed no encouragement, and hooked a pale finger through the ring on the front of the collar and pulled roughly, bringing Hermione off balance. The young woman awkwardly tumbled forward onto Bellatrix, fumbling for a moment, before the older woman easily maneuvered her so that she was sat down securely on the woman’s lap. Bellatrix smiled when Hermione instinctually leaned into the older witch after a moment. The dark witch again tugged on the Gryffindor’s collar, guiding Hermione’s head to rest on her lightly covered breast. Without thinking, the Professor brought Hermione closer by wrapping her arms around the girl’s bare waist. 

Bellatrix took a few long minutes to admire the look of the collar on her pet, the feel of the supple leather beneath her fingers, and the way Hermione practically radiated joy while in her embrace. Hermione, for one, couldn’t have possibly imagined that Bellatrix would have responded so kindly, so thoughtfully. It only worked to make her feel more determined to be a good, devoted pet for her Mistress.

“You do look lovely wearing it,” Bellatrix murmured softly, running a finger over the edge of the collar, noting how Hermione leaned into any sort of accidental touch. “Never wear the glamor over it when we’re alone, I want to see you with it.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Hermione responded, pressing herself even closer to the warm body she was sat on. “Thank you.”

“You’re mine.”

“ _Yours_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried not to make it soft but then did? My bad.  
> Also, fair warning, next chapter is just filthy smut featuring a magic cock, so if that’s not your jam, be fairly warned


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thanks for your patience with this update. Fair warning, this contains smut, and specifically includes what can be called a magic cock. I just want to take a moment to explain that I chose to do this because it fit the characters and the story I’m writing, not because I didn’t want to write a trans character. That’s just not an aspect of this particular story.
> 
> Fuck JK Rowling. Trans lives matter and trans characters matter.

Hermione felt encapsulated in the joy that came with being embraced so closely and intimately by her Mistress. She was held tightly for a long few minutes, tucked securely in Bellatrix’s strong arms with her nose pressed firmly against the woman’s collarbone, allowing her to greedily inhale lungfuls of sharp cinnamon. Hermione’s fingers were clasped tightly around her new collar, enjoying the feel of the security that came with it. She was gracious for the momentary pause, it was as if the older woman knew that Hermione needed a few moments to reign in her excitement. 

Eventually though, Bellatrix became impatient, as she was wont to do, and began to trail her fingers lightly over Hermione’s bare legs, leaving goosebumps in her wake. Hermione initially jolted a bit at the unexpected touch, too caught up in her thoughts to notice it at first, before once again melting into her Mistress’s larger frame. The Gryffindor blossomed under the slight touch, practically purring as she tightened her hold around Bellatrix’s neck, feeling herself slip deep into a submissive headspace.

Bellatrix spent long moments just tracing her fingers along Hermione’s surprisingly soft skin, feeling the way the girl would react to each touch and each movement. Very quickly, Hermione’s breathing began to pick up in response to the teasing touches. The leftover bliss of being collared was waning in favor of the feeling of incessant wetness between her thighs, which she was certain Bellatrix could feel with the way she was situated on the woman’s lap. She couldn’t help but let out a squeak when the dark witch slid her fingers further and further up her inner thighs, getting close to her wet sex, but not close enough to give any sort of friction. 

The Professor repeated the same teasing motion over and over and over, getting increasingly close to where Hermione so desperately wanted to be touched, only to back off and restart the cycle once again. Even trying to buck her hips up into Bellatrix’s touch was unsuccessful, earning her a stifled chuckle from the Professor. 

“Please, will you touch me, Mistress?” Hermione asked, moving backwards slightly so she could look pleadingly into Bellatrix’s dark eyes. Amused, Bellatrix quickly ran a finger up Hermione’s wet slit, taking a moment to circle lightly over her clit, before retreating her hand to continue teasing the Gryffindor with careful, light touches. Hermione whined pitifully, reeling at how quickly such a wonderful, pleasing touch had been revoked. 

“Is that not what you asked for?” Bellatrix hummed, never stopping her motions. Hermione huffed lowly, desperate for more than the little friction she was given. “Use your words, pet.”

“Yes, I-I, please, I want more, Mistress,” Hermione stuttered out, unable to stop how she opened her legs wider and tilted her neck to the side, baring it, inviting the dark witch to take what was rightfully hers. The heat between her thighs was forcing the Gryffindor inch closer and closer to delirium.

Suddenly, Bellatrix was picking Hermione up, shifting her quickly so that the girl was now straddling the dark witch, legs propped on the bed on either side of Bellatrix’s wide hips. Looking down at her positioning, Hermione could see that her Mistress had a clear view of her slick folds. She had to concentrate on behaving to not squeeze her thighs together in anticipation, knowing that Bellatrix was watching, leering, as she always did. No matter what she was saying or doing, onyx eyes greedily watched Hermione, drinking in every reaction with hunger.

Bellatrix returned to the cycle of light, teasing touches after a moment. She worked from the taught planes of Hermione’s stomach down to the girl’s inner thighs, internally relishing in the soft, smooth skin there. Seeing the way slick wetness began leaking out onto Hermione’s bare thighs made Bellatrix take pity on the girl. 

Hermione held her breath when her Mistress finally began to touch her clit. It was still a slight touch, not one that gave much relief, but it was enough to make the Gryffindor tremble. She knew that Bellatrix was drawing this out, teasing her on purpose, but Hermione couldn’t help but play into her hand. With the headspace she was in, she couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything but pleasing the older woman. 

Bellatrix began to slowly move her fingers up and down the length of Hermione’s wet slit instead of her teasing touches elsewhere, making the girl release a low, heady moan. The pressure was still light, but only worked Hermione up more. The few days of being unable to touch herself made Hermione more sensitive than usual, making every deliberate swipe of a finger around her clit all the more terribly delicious. 

“Can I ask for more, please? Mistress?”

“You can always ask,” Bellatrix said in a husky voice, “But that doesn’t always mean you’ll get what you want, pet.”

Even with her teasing words, Bellatrix continued to deliberately press tight circles against Hermione’s protruding nub. Bellatrix alternated between rubbing where the girl was most sensitive, to trailing fingers down to her entrance to gather more of the ample wetness there. She was precise in every movement, consciously taking her time to drive Hermione to madness. Within a few moments, the brunette completely lost herself in the sensual sensations that such small motions gave. 

“Remember that I want you to use your words.”

Was Bellatrix going to make her beg again? It wasn’t something Hermione put above herself, above her station, but as much as she was willing to beg, she didn’t want to waste that sort of time, she just had an urgency to feel Bellatrix. 

“Mistress, please, I-”

Before Hermione could finish her sentence, a slim finger entered her abruptly. Immediately, her inner walls clenched greedily around Bellatrix’s finger and the girl released a heady, low moan. A moment later, Hermione’s sopping entrance greedily accepted a second finger. 

“I’d like to know if your notorious late night trips to the library have garnered you any sort of knowledge of the area sex magic, pet,” Bellatrix practically purred, punctuating her sentence with a particularly deep thrust. Hermione’s head fell onto Bellatrix’s shoulder in ecstasy. The dark witch took a moment to hook her fingers upward and press gently at the spongy flesh she found there, making the Gryffindor unconsciously shift her hips to facilitate a better angle. How was Hermione supposed to answer any sort of questions when everything felt so good?

A nip to the underside of her jaw worked to ground Hermione enough to reply, “No, not really.” Another thrust encouraged her to continue. “I-I’ve read about it before, but n-nothing more than a passing mention.”

The dark witch hummed thoughtfully at Hermione’s answer, never stopping her fingers. Bellatrix let the girl bask in the pleasure she was giving, secretly enjoying the warm wetness that enveloped her fingers. 

“You won’t find any books on sex magic in the library here. Most often, those sort of books are passed down from family member to family member in Pureblood Houses,” Bellatrix said. “Lucky for you, as the Head of House Black, I happen to possess quite a few books about it.”

Hermione, as usual, was instantly curious about this sort of unknown magic, but any sort of intellectual thought left her brain the moment slim fingers slipped inside of her. The Professor didn’t even seem off-put by lecturing her while still slowly pumping her fingers in and out of Hermione’s wet entrance. All she could do was whine and let out hot puffs of air every time Bellatrix fully sheathed her fingers. It was completely overwhelming. 

“Most spells are contraceptive aids for same sex couples or those with infertility issues, but a few...innovative witches and wizards took the idea further,” Bellatrix murmured. Suddenly, Hermione was being pulled backwards by her collar from where she was hiding in her Mistress’s neck, gagging as the air she was inhaling was choked out of her. A pale hand tilted her head upwards, giving the Gryffindor a chance to gaze desperately into Bellatrix’s black eyes, before that same hand grasped tightly at the ring on her collar. The sultry, nonchalant smile on Bellatrix’s face made Hermione’s cunt pulse greedily around the woman’s fingers, wanting more,  _ needing _ more. “Can you guess what sort of things they created?”

The way Bellatrix hardly acknowledged that she was literally in the middle of fucking her made Hermione even more desperate for some terrible reason, and it only worked to make her even more wet. She was sure that Bellatrix’s hand was covered with her desperation by now. Her mind could barely wrap around what the woman was saying, even while looking directly into her Mistress’s face. She scrambled to say the first thing that came to her mind, careful not to leave a direct question unanswered, even though she could barely think.

“I-I... Enhancements? Things like, like muggle plastic surgery,” she replied, fumbling terribly over her pathetic attempt at a reply. Hermione couldn’t understand where this line of questioning was going, all she could understand was that her Mistress was still pumping her slim fingers in and out. The woman was relentless. 

“Close, but no cigar, pet,” Bellatrix chuckled, her warm breath billowing over her ear. She released Hermione’s collar in favor for a taut nipple, mercilessly pinching it between her sharp nails. Hermione moaned wantonly at the sensation, finding out very quickly that her nipples were more sensitive than she originally thought. The dark witch again hooked her fingers, pressing insistently against ridged flesh, before pulling back slightly to scissor her fingers open savagely. 

The feeling of being stretched so deliciously by her Mistress was all Hermione could think about for a few long moments, unable to even try to continue the conversation. Surely, the woman could feel how close she was to orgasm already with how tightly she was clamped around pale fingers. She couldn’t take any more teasing. It didn’t take long for her to beg again, hoping it was what Bellatrix wanted. 

“Please, Mistress, I’m getting c-close,” Hermione panted, trying to both push her chest outward and to grind her hips down to get more friction. 

Suddenly, Bellatrix was even closer now, whispering in her ear, “It seems you need a hint, Mudpuppy.” The dark witch was grinning maniacally at this point, having greatly enjoyed teasing her little witch to the point of desperation. “Let me show you.”

Hermione barely heard Bellatrix’s words, and besides preening slightly at the twistedly affectionate nickname, only focused on the feeling of her orgasm growing closer and closer. Her hips were instinctually moving with the fingers buried inside her, easily following the set rhythm. It wouldn’t be long now. The Gryffindor barely heard the low murmuring of a spell, and didn’t register the words. 

She was only brought back into focus a few moments from climax when Bellatrix halted her ferocious thrusts, leaving her fingers completely still inside of Hermione’s pulsing cunt. Hermione whined at the loss of sensation, upset that her Mistress would be so cruel as to bring her so close to the edge, only to keep her there. She wanted to beg, beg for mercy and for release but- Suddenly, Bellatrix took Hermione by the wrist and quickly guided her hand to the crotch of the woman’s thin nightgown and... _ oh.  _

Hermione was  _ not  _ expecting to feel an insistent bulge underneath her fingers. She was completely reeling from being denied an impending orgasm, and couldn’t believe her senses. She quickly looked down to where her hand was placed firmly against a barely hidden length, then quickly looked back up, and back down again, unable to tear her eyes away. Hermione was positive that whatever was in her hand was not there a few minutes ago, and her curiosity got the better of her. She gave a tentative squeeze of the firm flesh beneath her hand, and was both shocked and pleased with her discovery of a magic cock in between her Mistress’s legs. 

“Not what you were expecting, pet?” Bellatrix purred, taking a moment to wiggle her fingers buried deep within Hermione. Bellatrix was practically seeping smugness from her pores, onyx eyes sparkling with delight at every small response. The Gryffindor gasped at the sensual feeling, and without thinking, she firmly grasped the hard length in her hand in response. Hermione was rewarded with a low growl from her Mistress and a sharp bite to the underside of her jaw. “I can feel that.”

A magic cock with sensation? Hermione had never heard of such a thing, never knew it was even feasible. Surely, muggle sex toys were nothing new to the brunette, but this was a different sort of...enhancement. She was quickly overcome with a multitude of future possibilities, and had to consciously take a moment to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost in her own thoughts. After a noticeable pause, Hermione was finally able to rip her hand away, suddenly aware that she was not given permission to do anything, really. 

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress, I’m just a little surprised is all, I, I didn’t know this was possible,” Hermione apologized, hyper aware of the slim fingers buried within her. Instinctually, her inner walls tightened and fluttered at the mere thought, something Bellatrix was sure to notice. Hermione couldn’t help but blush from the intimacy, even at such a lewd act. The comfort that came with having her Mistress’s fingers completely inside of her, even while immobile, was oddly comforting and sensual. 

“Well now you know, pet. But all you have to worry your little head about is behaving,” Bellatrix intoned in false sweetness. Without warning, the woman began to slowly corkscrew her fingers inside Hermione, deliberately moving against a soft, spongy spot that made the brunette’s eyes roll back in her head. Bellatrix let Hermione bask in the sensation for a few moments, precise in every motion to make the girl forget herself. “If your wet cunt is anything to go by, Mudpuppy, you seem interested in my cock, hm?”

Hermione barely resurfaced from the depths of her pleasure with her Mistress’s sentence, but her ears were caught on such lewd words. Merlin, since when did dirty talk get to her? Even imagining the sensation of being fucked with Bellatrix’s hard length made the Gryffindor whine pitifully, clenching around her fingers. A sharp thrust reminded Hermione that she needed to answer.

“ _ Yes _ ,” she moaned. Never in her life had Hermione sounded so wantonly desperate, but being settled in her Mistress’s lap with possessive fingers roughly thrusting into her was all she ever wanted. Hermione leaned forward with the admission, trying to hide her flushed face in Bellatrix’s neck, but a vicious grip on her collar yanked the girl back. 

“Look at me,” Bellatrix snarled, gripping Hermione’s face firmly in her free hand, never stopping her ministrations with the other. Hermione’s soft, honey eyes were glassy and unfocused, but the dark witch found immense pleasure in such things. “You’ll have to ask nicely, pet.”

Hermione barely hesitated before begging profusely. “Please, I want more, Mistress,” she panted. She tried to tilt her hips upwards to allow for a better angle, but as soon as Hermione moved, Bellatrix brought her back down to continue closely straddling the woman’s thighs. The brunette was intuitive enough to not try again, knowing that her Mistress’s denial was an unspoken command to not try again; so she tried to beg again. “ _ Please _ , I need you, I-”

The feeling of Bellatrix’s thumb swirling firmly over her clit made Hermione abandon her sentence in favor of throwing her head back and  _ moaning _ . The small circles made electricity jolt through her core, through her very being. All of her sensations and thoughts were consumed by the feeling of her Mistress’s hand. The dark witch timed each swipe over Hermione’s protruding clitoris to immediately follow a well placed thrust, and within a few short moments, the Gryffindor was overloaded with pleasure, coming close to careening over the edge. 

“Please, Mistress,” Hermione said breathlessly, hardly able to hold herself up on shaking legs. “May I come for you?”

With a feral thrust, Bellatrix hissed, “ _ Yes _ ,” and the woman watched as the girl quickly came undone. Not being allowed release for a few days meant that Hermione was more sensitive than usual, and her orgasm hit her like a freight train, shooting electricity from her core outwards. Flashes of white light exploded behind her eyelids as the Gryffindor unknowingly canted her hips to the incessant rhythm of Bellatrix’s fingers. Somewhere, in the back of her head, Hermione heard desperate, wanton moaning, but couldn’t connect the dots to realize it was  _ her _ screaming her throat raw. Bellatrix was furiously persistent, never halting her fingers for a moment, stretching Hermione’s orgasm out in a terribly delicious way. 

When her core finally stopped pulsing heavily around her Mistress’s fingers, it felt like hours later. Surely, the woman’s fingers must’ve been completely coated in Hermione’s wetness. Hermione slumped forward into Bellatrix’s chest, instinctually trying to hide her face in the woman’s neck. She could feel the soft rumble of Bellatrix’s chest as she cooed softly into her ear, still gently maneuvering her fingers, but she couldn’t truly hear the words being said. When she closed her eyes, all she could hear was the pounding of her pulse in her ears. 

Hermione was only half able to catch her breath before, cruelly, Bellatrix slipped her fingers free of her wetness. A small whine left her lips before she could think about it, and the dark witch chuckled darkly in turn. Without warning, Hermione was pulled out of her Mistress’s warm embrace by a firm hand tugging on her collar. For a moment, the brunette was distracted by the predatory gleam in Bellatrix’s eyes, a usual and welcome sight by this point. However, Hermione could’ve sworn she saw a sort of softness beneath the glare, but her eyesight was hazy and unfocused. 

“You think I’m done with you yet?”

And with that, Hermione was lifted and practically thrown backwards unto the large bed. In a split second, Bellatrix was straddling her waist, bent over to place hot, open mouthed kisses on the girl’s flushed chest. With the movement, Bellatrix’s erection was firmly pressed against Hermione’s lower stomach, just shy of the trim patch of hair above her sex. Even just feeling the warm cock against her flesh made Hermione release a shallow groan, unable to stop the way her core clenched pitifully around nothing. At some point, Bellatrix had divested Hermione of every logical, anxious thought in her brain, reducing the bookworm to nothing more than primal urges. 

A hot, warm mouth on her left breast shocked Hermione out of her reverie enough to look down to see the wildly ferocious look in Bellatrix’s eyes as she laved her tongue around a pink nipple. When Bellatrix pulled back to nibble Hermione’s nipple in between her teeth, the Gryffindor yelped loudly at the deliciously painful feeling. She squirmed futilely beneath the weight of Bellatrix’s body, groaning lowly at the feeling of being pinned. Even with the delightful sharp heat coming from her Mistress’s teeth, Hermione still felt like she needed  _ more _ . 

Grabbing on tightly to Bellatrix’s firm shoulders, Hermione tilted her hips up and revealed more of her neck in submission before whining, “Please, Mistress. Fuck me.”

Bellatrix’s resolve snapped. Releasing a low, feral growl, Bellatrix released the girl’s nipple and parted Hermione’s tan legs to reveal the girl’s weeping cunt. The dark witch took a long moment to tease the pliant girl beneath her by dragging the broad head of her cock up and down the length of Hermione’s wet slit. When Bellatrix circled her clit, Hermione was absolutely sure she was going to combust if she wasn’t fucked  _ right now _ . The Gryffindor desperately whimpered and tried to open her legs even further, trying to invite the dark witch in. 

“Mistress, please...”

“Relax, little one,” Bellatrix cooed, placing a quick nip on Hermione’s neck, adjacent to her collar.

Only after Hermione took a deep breath did Bellatrix start to move again. The dark witch smoothly lined up with the brunette’s slick entrance and began to insistently push forward. Like a pliant petal, Hermione’s cunt greedily accepted Bellatrix’s length with little resistance. Hermione made a noise between a sigh and a yelp when the broadest part of her Mistress’s cock finally entered her, relaxing slightly into the bed. Bellatrix gave the girl just a moment to adjust, reveling in the sheen of sweat glimmering in the valley between Hermione’s pert breasts and the way the girl’s eyes rolled back into her head.

The dark witch became impatient quickly, though. The slick wetness of Hermione’s cunt was so wonderfully inviting, and the woman craved to fully sheath herself within the warmth. With a quick swipe of Bellatrix’s fingers over her clit, Hermione let out a guttural moan, instinctually widening her legs, and melted even further into the plush mattress, half limp. The motion allowed the dark witch to press forward and sink another few inches of her length within Hermione, making the younger girl cry out in ecstasy. Again, Bellatrix gave the Gryffindor a short moment to adjust before slowly bringing her hips forward to fully meet Hermione’s.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Bellatrix snarled, releasing a low groan. The Professor couldn’t help but pull back just slightly, only to slam back forwards with renewed ferocity. Hermione yelped loudly, but it did nothing to dissuade her Mistress. At the same time, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of Bellatrix’s broad cock stretching her deliciously, but painfully, did nothing to dissuade Hermione from enjoying it. 

“Mistress...” Hermione moaned, grasping desperately at the older woman’s shoulders to try and ground herself. It had been more than a few months since the Gryffindor had any other sort of intimate relations with someone, and even longer since she had anything other than fingers inside of her, so she certainly felt overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so thoroughly. But  _ fuck _ did Bellatrix’s cock feel good, just thinking about it made Hermione’s inner walls pulse weakly.

Bellatrix began to set a strong, slow pace of thrusts that quickly made Hermione’s mind go to mush. The dark witch was infuriatingly steady with her movements, slowly but surely driving Hermione to delirium. She was conflicted between basking in the sensations she was feeling and taking time to savor it, and asking for more,  _ so much more _ .

“Good pet,” the woman said softly, bending down to place a quick kiss on the brunette’s collarbones. Bellatrix punctuated her sentence with a particularly rough thrust and hit some part deep inside Hermione that made her cry out desperately. Immediately, the Professor noticed the slight change in response and decided to capitalize on it. Truly, the woman was like a predator in the way she preyed on her slight weaknesses. Speeding up just slightly, Bellatrix angled her hips to hit a spot inside Hermione  _ just right  _ every single time she thrusted. 

It destroyed Hermione. The sensations were becoming overwhelming, and she could already feel the ragged edges of another orgasm approaching. Bellatrix only continued her onslaught, not even pausing when she firmly pinched a taut, pink nipple in between her fingers. 

Hermione’s eyes rolled back into her head and she mewled desperately, unable and unwilling to move. All she could do was hold her hands close to her chest, gently holding on to the ring on the front of her collar, and let her Mistress steadily pound into her cunt. Truly, she must’ve looked pathetic, but the thought of being seen in her current state and subsequently degraded only worked to turn her on further. The Gryffindor knew she was making some truly obscene noises, but it sounded so far away, and it wasn’t nearly as all consuming as the feeling of being fucked so thoroughly.

For a long while, all that could be heard was the insistent slapping of skin on skin and the wet, squelching noises coming from Hermione’s soaked cunt. Bellatrix was merciless in her pace, driving into the brunette with fervor.

“Please...” she whimpered pitifully, not even sure what she was asking for. But Hermione didn’t need to verbalize more than that, because within a second, Bellatrix released a deep snarl and viciously picked up the speed of her hips. With a calculated swipe of her fingers over Hermione’s clit, jolts of electricity shot through her. The effect was instant. Hermione felt her orgasm crash onto her like a wave, hot, white tendrils of pleasure bursting from her core as she came. Her back arched up towards the heavens as her thighs shook thunderously, her eyes rolling back into her head. As it was, she couldn’t see the way Bellatrix looked absolutely feral in the moment, eyes watching every jerk and movement of the girl below her. The Professor barely slowed her thrusts, deliciously drawing out Hermione’s orgasm until the girl was screaming her throat raw. After a few moments, Hermione’s entire body began shaking, still clenched tightly around Bellatrix’s thick cock, and the dark witch took this as her cue. 

Hermione whined when Bellatrix withdrew her cock from inside her, even while encapsulated in the tail end of an orgasm. Her core was clenching rhythmically around nothing as she vaguely heard wet, fleshy sounds, and grunts coming from above her. Try as she might, Hermione didn’t have it in her to open her eyes, she was too overwhelmed with pleasure. After a few deep breaths, she was able to regain some form of consciousness when a warm, sticky liquid splattered across her bare stomach. Hermione just barely cracked her eyes open to see a sweaty, ethereal looking Bellatrix above her. 

The woman had just orgasmed by the look on her face, and she quickly confirmed her suspicions by looking down to see thick, white streams of cum steadily leaking out of Bellatrix’s cock and onto Hermione’s stomach. Bellatrix’s eyes were tightly screwed shut and her mouth just slightly agape as she coaxed out the remnants of her pleasure with her right hand furiously pumping her length. Her soft alabaster skin was covered in a slight sheen of sweat, making every shift of her heaving bosom catch Hermione’s eye. She was truly beautiful; Hermione almost felt like she was intruding on some deity in their most primal of moments, but she didn’t have it in her to rip her gaze off of Bellatrix. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered how this powerful goddess of a woman was so wonderfully infatuated with her. 

Just as she completed her thought, Bellatrix’s eyes snapped open, immediately honing in on Hermione. A slow, delighted smirk overcame her features as she lazily pumped her hand a few more times over the head of her cock as she made direct eye contact with the Gryffindor below her. Hermione was all too eager to be caught, paralyzed in the woman’s strong gaze. 

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” Bellatrix murmured breathlessly, almost in explanation, but the woman obviously had no shame about her actions. She finally stopped moving her hand with a deep groan, almost sounding wounded at the sudden lack of pleasure. Immediately, Bellatrix instead focused on Hermione, stretching out to again hover over the younger girl. With a grin toying at her lips, Bellatrix pressed a swift kiss to Hermione’s flushed cheek and whispered, “Good girl.”

Hermione released a deep sigh she didn’t know she was holding and dragged into the bed. The simple but sincere praise after such an intimate act was all Hermione needed; it was almost as if Bellatrix knew exactly how to best take care of her. A stray tear accumulated at her waterline, but she furiously blinked it away before Bellatrix could notice, and plastered on a watery smile after the woman came to press their lips together. Ever the perceptive person, Bellatrix not noticing Hermione’s few tears of overwhelming happiness and pleasure had to mean that the woman was occupied with her own contentment and pleasure. Or, at least, Hermione hoped so. 

“Will you stop thinking for a bit? I would’ve thought I fucked the thought out of you, at least temporarily,” Bellatrix quipped from where she dangerously hovered above Hermione’s prone body. A nervous snort escaped Hermione before she could try and disguise the ugly noise as a cough, and Bellatrix only smiled wider.

“You-you did,” Hermione stuttered, her nervousness making an appearance. She smiled meekly before saying, “I think my eyes rolled out of my head more than once.”

Bellatrix chuckled lightly and said, “Well next time maybe your brain will roll out with it.”

Truly, it was a terrible, morbid joke, but exactly the sort of dark humor that Hermione had come to expect from her Mistress. Bellatrix’s crudeness was quickly becoming something that was surprisingly comforting, in an odd way. Hermione smiled broadly in response and giggled slightly. After a moment though, once she stopped laughing, Hermione felt the exhaustion of the past couple hours hit her all at once. As much as she suddenly felt tired, the change in energy also brought a wave of tenderness.

Gently, Hermione brought her hand up to place it where Bellatrix's neck met her shoulder and smiled softly. “Thank you, Mistress,” she said with as much sincerity and reverence as she could. With a creeping blush, she continued, “I had a really really good time.”

Bellatrix gave her a self-assured smirk and said, “I could tell.” She leaned down to firmly press her lips against Hermione’s, smiling ever so slightly into the kiss. Bellatrix let the kiss get deeper for barely a moment, swiping her tongue into the girl’s willing mouth. before pulling back to nip at her bottom lip. “But don’t think I missed the fact that you came without permission.”

Instantly, Hermione’s eyes were as wide as saucers. In her overwhelming pleasure, she completely forgot about one of the most important rules imposed upon her. She opened her mouth once, twice, to speak, but was silenced by a dangerous glint in her Mistress’s eyes. The dark witch was still smiling. She was frozen for a moment, trying to think of a way to appease Bellatrix without misbehaving by speaking out of turn. Hoping that her offer of submission would be enough, Hermione whined lowly in apology before sitting up on her forearms to crane her neck forward to gently rub her nose against Bellatrix’s jaw, just below her ear. She took a chance and laved her tongue there, hoping that the primal side that lived just beneath the woman’s surface would enjoy her soft caresses. Hermione felt more than heard a pleased rumble come from Bellatrix, and continued to nuzzle her nose in the woman’s neck. 

“You’re a cute little Mudpuppy, I’ll give you that, but you’ll still get your due punishment,” Bellatrix said lowly, danger lacing her every word. Hermione could not bring herself to truly fear the woman, though. 

“I understand, Mistress. I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you,” Hermione said after a moment, pulling away from the woman to lay back down. The thought of a punishment, especially another spanking, was unsettling in a weirdly exciting way, but Hermione knew that she had agreed, quite enthusiastically in fact, to follow whatever rules Bellatrix had. 

“Hm, I’m sure you will, pet,” the woman purred, her smile growing increasingly toothy. “But we’ll save that for another day.”

Hermione was instantly soothed by the sickly sweet tone the woman used, and quickly nodded in understanding. “Thank you,” she smiled. 

Seemingly pleased by Hermione’s behavior, Bellatrix leaned down to firmly kiss the girl’s lips. For a long moment, Bellatrix was all tongue and teeth as she effortlessly controlled the kiss, but purposely kept the passion at a low simmer. When the dark witch pulled away, Hermione was nearly breathless from the sensation of Bellatrix’s soft, full lips and the power she wielded so easily. Her heart fluttered nervously. 

“Go get dressed,” Bellatrix said finally, unceremoniously rolling from above Hermione to collapse on the bed directly next to the girl, smiling unwaveringly. Hermione huffed, amused at her Mistress’s wolfish grin. Truly, the woman was her most beautiful like this; casually naked, sated, and basking in her own aura of power. Her grin seemed radiant.

So Hermione slowly fumbled off the bed, reluctant to part from the warm and comfort Bellatrix provided. The woman, almost as an afterthought, waved her hand to magically  _ scourgify _ Hermione, cleaning the leaking wetness between her legs. The Gryffindor whipped her head around to stare at Bellatrix, still naked, and completely unashamed. She blushed heavily. 

After a pause, she walked to where her clothes and wand laid near the sofa and began to redress in her clothes, careful to make it look like they hadn’t been excitedly torn off, and took a moment to pull her hair up and away from her face. She ran her hands over her clothes to smooth them down and suddenly remembered about her collar. It was so comfortable and felt so natural to wear that Hermione had nearly forgotten to conceal it from prying eyes. Pulling her wand out of her back pocket, the Gryffindor quickly casted a glamour charm over her collar. She could still feel the comforting weight and constriction of the collar despite the fact that, to any bystander, Hermione wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. 

When she turned around, Bellatrix was prowling silently nearby, dark eyes drinking in her every move. She had redressed in her sheer nightgown and had managed to look much less disheveled than she felt. Silently, Hermione walked over to the woman and stood in front of her, hands clasped behind her back. She ached to kiss the woman, to be more affectionate now that she felt more comfortable with Bellatrix, but they hadn’t talked too much about such things. Maybe they should. 

“Come by Wednesday,” Bellatrix’s gruff voice shook Hermione out of her head. Immediately she smiled and nodded her head, leaning towards the woman. 

“Of course, Mistress, I’d love to,” Hermione crooned, looking deep into Bellatrix’s sharp, onyx eyes. From this close, she could notice the barely-present smile lines around the woman’s eyes and how her eyelashes were impossibly long. 

Bellatrix, as if reading her mind (which she might have been doing, actually), wrapped her strong arms around Hermione and brought the shorter girl to her chest. She felt a firm kiss being pressed to the top of her head, and burrowed her face deeper into the woman’s chest. 

Sadly, after a minute or two, the embrace ended; both witches knew it was getting late, and they both had classes early in the morning. Hermione gave Bellatrix a mournful grin, but the woman looked as confident and unperturbed as ever. It calmed Hermione. With her hand on the Gryffindor’s lower back, Bellatrix silently led her towards the door. Just before the dark witch opened the door, she leaned down to press a quick, but breathtaking kiss to Hermione’s lips. 

Bellatrix sent Hermione on her way with a sharp little pat to her arse, causing the girl to squeak in surprise. The last thing she saw before the door closed was her Mistress’s devilish smile. 

  
  
  



End file.
